Destiny Realigned
by Mrriddler
Summary: AU. A tragic twist of events shattered Lelouch’s hopes and dreams, but if the future of humanity truly rested with him, could destiny be realigned? A “Lelouch remained in Britannia” story. Lelouch/harem?
1. The Handicapped Prince

**Disclaimer: I don't claim ownership of the Code Geass franchise and I'm making no profit off this fanfiction work.**

**AN:** I know I shouldn't do this, but I've been dying to write a Code Geass for a very, very long time now. In many ways, it's the perfect environment for the sort of story I want to write, which can be both a blessing and a curse. We'll see which it is.

I will point out the immeasurable influence **Cal reflector**'s magnificent work, **"Lelouch of Britannia,"** had on me and on many others I'm sure. It showed what a capable writer can do with this fandom. I don't claim to be up to his level and I can't promise the same level of fluid prose or nuanced articulation, but I _will_ endeavor to do my best.

This story has not been edited by anyone, so all errors are mine.

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**Destiny Realigned**

**By Mrriddler**

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**Chapter 1: The Handicapped Prince**

"Lelouch."

The tangled mess that was the Eleventh Prince of Britannia groaned, but remained otherwise inert.

"Lelouch!" The voice called out impatiently a second time. A gurgled whine emerged from beneath the covers.

Nunnally sighed resignedly. Her brother could be such a child at times. But if he wanted to behave like a child then she'll just treat him like one.

A mischievous gleam entered her eyes. Leaning over the plush king sized bed, her slim hands snaked forward and beneath the covers and with the speed of viper, struck at his vulnerable ticklish spots.

The black-haired boy yelped, knocking the offending appendages away along with the covers. He sat upright, instantly alert.

"Good morning, dear Brother," she greeted cheerfully, earning the ire of said brother.

"How could you be so perky at this ungodly hour?" He muttered.

Nunnally tilted her head at him with an expression of amusement. "What do you mean, dear Brother, it's almost 6:30 in the morning?"

Lelouch gave his sister a deadpan expression.

"Nunnally, you used to _refuse_ to get up before noon."

"True, but that was before. Roll call is at six at the academy so I got out of that habit pretty fast," Nunnally explained.

Lelouch stared at his sister more closely and noticed that not only was she perky and alert, she was also fully dressed. Her hair neatly combed and braided and decked out in a pilot's uniform, she really looked the part.

"What's the rush? I thought your match was scheduled for this afternoon."

"I want to arrive early so I can get a few hours of practice before the match. I know it's selfish of me, but I do better when you're there, Big Brother," the princess admitted with a blush, as if ashamed for having compelled her brother to attend.

No additional pleadings were required as Lelouch rushed to dress himself, which was no easy feat for someone in his condition. It would've been a simple affair to rearrange the timing of the event for a more suitable time, but Nunnally refused even this minor offer of special treatment. Her unwavering sense of justice could be rather infuriating at times, but it also made her all the more endearing and likely played a role in earning her the admiration of fellow cadets, especially amongst the non-nobles.

"Let me help you," Nunnally offered, seeing her brother struggle to get up.

Lelouch briskly waved her away so she waited patiently by his bedside as he tried without success to lift himself onto the nearby wheelchair. Only when he was panting with exhaustion and requested her help did she intercede. Both times, Nunnally spoke nary a word, understanding her brother's need for action. It has become a ritual of sorts for the siblings, both a grim reminder of their plight and a renewed call for future efforts.

After finally getting Lelouch seated in his wheelchair, Nunnally bent down and tenderly kissed her brother's sweat covered forehead.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I-"

"Go," Lelouch urged. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," he smiled reassuringly, quickly adopting the confident and unwavering posture he was known for. "Go and prove to them that you're our mother's daughter. Make me proud, Sister."

Not that Nunnally needed to anything to make him proud. Her simple existence did that already, but Lelouch knew how much those words meant to her, so he said them whenever he could. The dazzling smile she rewarded him with proved, however, that he spoke correctly.

"I will and I love you, Big Brother." With a laugh in her heart and a spring in her step, Nunnally escaped through the double oak doors.

"I love you too," Lelouch uttered softly to the empty room before slumping into his chair, his body trembling slightly. Getting up each morning was a trial and it never seemed to get any easier. Although waking up with Nunnally by his side did make it more manageable, or did it make it worse?

Every time he saw her, he was reminded of his own weakness and inefficacy. Instead of being the protective big brother, he was the infirmed elder sibling who needed help to get to the bathroom. Meanwhile, his beloved sister was the one toiling away, preparing to be a good soldier for the Empire so that some vestiges of their mother's honor could be preserved, so that _he_ could be looked after.

'_Survival of the fittest,'_ Lelouch thought bitterly. What could possibly be less fit and less fitting than for a cripple to be a part of Charles zi Britannia's family. He saw "voluntarily" surrendering his royal heritage as his one way out, but Nunnally, Euphemia and a small group of sympathetic personages put a stop to that nonsense. Titled or not, as a former Prince of Britannia, Lelouch would remain vulnerable and be ripe for the picking out in the hostile world. Nunnally, bless her heart, refused to sacrifice her brother to the wolves and vowed to find another way.

And find a way she did, though it definitely wasn't what anyone could have imagined. Military service.

Britannia was a warring nation, much in the same tradition as Rome, as many were fond of recalling due to the obvious symmetry. With an empire spanning a third of the world, conflict was ever present and genuine military talents highly sought after. Valor and victory on the battlefield was by far the quickest and surest route to fame and fortune in the Empire. All that he and every other citizen understood by the age of five. What he couldn't understand was how his sister, his kind, gentle, pacific sister decided to seek this path for herself.

Nunnally fundamentally hated violence. It was anathema to her being. The only person Lelouch could think of as being more opposed to warfare of any sort was their half sister, Euphemia. No matter how much she reassured him, he knew she couldn't possibly have wished for this.

The one saving grace of the whole affair was that Nunnally didn't struggle. In fact, she thrived in the rigors of military life, so much so that skeptics who previously mocked the princess's desire to play soldier, now wondered aloud why such a natural talent was not groomed earlier. She was ranked first in her class by the end of her third year, earned her first kill during a harrowing training mission in her fourth year – one which still gave Lelouch nightmares, – and having her first tour of duty placement fought over by every Area governor and theater commander months before her final examination. Her status as a princess did help, but she also had the piloting skills to match her name. Lelouch lost count of how many times he heard her being described as "her mother's daughter."

Each and every single one of these events shocked Lelouch, but should they have? After all, he himself was exceptionally intelligent and was promised great things prior to the tragedy. Why shouldn't his blood sister be any less blessed in the gene department? Lelouch likely knew this in his mind, but not in his heart. When he looked at Nunnally, he saw the cherished younger sister he dotted on and snuck candy to and not the Cornelia Mark II everyone else believed she was destined to be.

He was, however, perfectly aware of the tremendous sacrifices his sister was making. Her stardom and rise mirrored his own comfort and access within the halls of Britannia power. Although, he also realized the Lamperouge name was still far short of its former glory. So Lelouch swallowed his anger, his pride and his seemingly unfathomable urge to rage against the world, and played the role befitting a prince, abet a diminished one. He carefully husbanded and marshaled the prestige his sister acquired, building new alliances and reaffirming old ones. Whenever he tired or despaired, he found strength in Nunnally example. If she could give up her livelihood for him, then he owed it to her to make sure her efforts were not done in vain.

"Master Lelouch? Are you all right? Do you need any assistance."

Lelouch finished buttoning his royal jacket and shook away the depressing thoughts. One day, he would find the culprits responsible for their family's tragedy and render the punishment they so richly deserve, but not now. Today was Nunnally's day and he was not going to ruin it by being depressed.

"I'm fine, Alfred. I'll be out in a moment."

When Lelouch greeted his personal butler, all traces of his previous discomfort and worries were gone. He was the Eleventh Prince of Britannia, the elder brother of Nunnally vi Britannia, and he was ready to face the world.

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The sound of metal clashing against metal reverberated through the deserted valley as the three Knightmare Frames engaged each other. The two Gloucesters weaved around the jungle terrain, attempting to trap the Sutherland, which expertly avoided all such attempts.

Lelouch watched the battle play out from the VIP box inside a mobile command base.

The badly damaged Sutherland had been at it for hours, and it was doubtful it would last for much longer. The exclusive test, offered only to the very best, was called the "Gauntlet." The subject KMF was literally run through a gauntlet of opponents without rest or given the opportunity to restock until they broke. If the pilot wanted to last past the mech's battery life, they had to "scavenge" for fuel cells from the defeated foes.

Lelouch suspected that by the end of the day, at least half of the equipments used would be put out of commission for a significant period of time; an extravagant use of resources for a simple test. No other nation dared expend such precious resources in such a wanton manner. Yet, it was precisely this determination and zeal that made Britannia's military so potent and its Knightmare Frame pilots second to none. Aberrations existed to be sure, but no other nation boosted or could hope to boost the qualitative _and_ quantitative advantages it held. It was no accident that Britannia had the Knights of the Round when no one else possessed anything comparable.

The dark-haired young prince grimaced as he assessed the live feed. Nunnally had already shattered the previous record for time elapsed, a stunning accomplishment, and still showed plenty of fight, but it wouldn't be long now. Her last opponent had badly mauled her slash harken, left motor arm and had damaged the Sakuradite Hydraulics System, resulting in a loss of maneuverability.

Sensing weakness, one of the attackers pressed home, intent on ending the cat and mouse game. Expecting and hoping for this, the defending KMF lashed out in response, smashing its Landspinner systems, and effectively knocking it out of action before finally falling to the onslaught of the second unit. Plus one more scratch for the record.

She did it! Seven disabled enemy mechs and a new academy record.

Lelouch would've pumped his fists into the air and boasted in a most ungentlemanly manner if he wasn't so worried about his sister. The Gauntlet was more or less the mech version of a live ammo scenario and fatalities have happened in the past. His concern intensified when Nunnally didn't immediately come out and only the reassurances from the communications staff that she was conscious and well stayed his hand. It appeared that the ejection system of the machine was damaged. After five agonizingly long minutes, the cockpit finally opened, dumping its diminutive pilot onto the muddy ground.

The Eleventh Prince didn't wait for the congratulatory greetings from the dignitaries present. Before the first words left their mouths, he was already out the door, speeding toward the battle zone as fast as his wheels could carry him.

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"Cadet, are you alright?"

"I'm ok." Even so, Nunnally stood unsteadily, leaning against the proffered arm for support. "Thank you. Ah…" Her next words died in her mouth, however as she gazed through her blurry vision at the tall figure who helped her.

"Lady Cornelia!"

"Send for a medic. The cadet is injured," commanded the Second Princess forcefully.

"Yes, ma'am," answered an attending officer, immediately rushing off to comply with the order. Cornelia gently guided the younger girl to a nearby tree trunk while the pilot of the crippled Gloucester joined them.

"You are getting rusty, Andreas," Cornelia stated in a teasing voice. Nunnally gasped, realizing that the pilot of the second Gloucester was none other than General Andreas Darlton, Cornelia's second in command and one of the most experienced field commanders in the Empire. The tall, well built man had the grace to blush in embarrassment. To be caught off guard by a slip of a girl not even out of the academy. Rumors of this day would undoubtedly haunt him for a long time.

"A thousand apologies, my lady, but the cadet truly was impressive. It has been a long time since I've seen anyone move with such grace and precision. Truly, you are Marianne's daughter. I think we can expect great things from you," the general praised.

"Thank you, sir."

Further conversation had to wait, however, when the medic arrived along with throngs of excited spectators led by one wheelchair bound prince.

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"For the third time, Brother, I'm fine," Nunnally said in exasperation as her brother fussed over her. "It's just a scratch." She loved her brother dearly, but his mother hen ways could be excessive at times, not to mention embarrassing when done in front of some of the most powerful people in the Empire. At least he had the good sense to restrain himself until they were out of the public limelight.

"I'm afraid I must leave immediately so I won't be able to attend your graduation ceremony," Cornelia explained apologetically.

Nunnally looked saddened, but nodded in understanding. The elder Britannia princess was an area governor and theater commander so she had her responsibilities to look after. For her to have come all this way was a treat already.

"Congratulations on your captain commission, Nunnally. You've earned this. I know I haven't always been the most supportive big sister, but know that I'm very proud of you," Cornelia said warmly with moisture in her eyes. Turning to her brother, she added, "and don't think I don't know what role you played, Lelouch. That maneuver she pulled had your fingerprints all over it."

"I don't know what you mean, sister dear. All I did was provide a soundboard for Nunnally's ideas," Lelouch answered with a soft smile.

"Nonesense. I couldn't have done it without Brother's help."

Cornelia smiled knowingly as the two siblings traded words, attempting to hoist the greater share of the credit upon the other. "In any case, congratulations to the both of you. I hope to see you soon."

The Second Princess and her associate departed soon after, pausing only briefly to greet an enthusiastic newcomer.

"Nunnally! You were awesome!" shrieked a high pitched voice. "Lady Cornelia even personally congratulated you! I'm SO jealous!" the new girl gushed as she playfully tackled the Imperial Princess.

"She is my half sister, you know. And I was close with her younger sister when we were young." Nunnally explained. It was impossible to overstate Cornelia li Britannia's popularity amongst the female soldiers of Britannia, especially aspiring KMF pilots. The Goddess of Victory's unexpected appearance and public praise would undoubtedly fuel rumors for many a news cycle.

Lelouch watched with a mix of amazement and amusement as the two girls hugged each other and happily twittered about like ordinary adolescents.

"Brother, meet my bestest friend, Marika Soresi," Nunnally introduced at long last, realizing that she was ignoring her brother. "Marika, you know my brother, Lelouch, the Eleventh Prince."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Your Highness," Marika gasped, her cheeks tingling with redness. The young brunette looked mortified at having acted inappropriately in front of royalty and offered a deep bow as apology.

"It's perfectly fine. If you can address Nunnally so, then Lelouch will be fine as well," answered the crippled prince.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Your Highness. That would be improper." Marika answered with a strained smile. "Your sister is different and she didn't really give us much choice about how to address her."

Lelouch leveled his sister with a stare. "I can imagine. She still hasn't told me what she did to have things go her way."

Nunnally smiled cutely, offering and betraying nothing. Her friend chuckled weakly.

Sensing the girl's continued discomfort, Lelouch gave her a disarming smile. "I confess that I always worry whenever sister is away. I'm glad that she has a good friend in you, Marika. Thank you for looking after her."

Marika's cheeks turned a deep, deep red at the praise from the Imperial Prince.

"You're too kind, Your Highness. It's an honor and privilege being Nunnally's friend. Although, she doesn't need much looking after. Most of the time, she's looking after us," she replied honestly.

"Don't I know it," Lelouch agreed. _'Don't I know it.'_ He ruthlessly suppressed the desire to mope and feel sorry for himself. Even so, it was hard to think of Nunnally as the _younger_ sibling at times given all she has accomplished.

Despite his efforts, Marika remained demure and hesitant in Lelouch's presence, but the trio still had a wonderful time catching up on events and talking about future plans, namely the girls' probable future deployments as newly minted KMF Knights of the Empire.

"I can't believe you, Nunnally," Marika exclaimed. "I can't believe you turned down Lady Cornelia's offer to join her force. Do you know how many girls would kill for the opportunity to serve under her, much less be inducted into her CA Group straight from the academy?"

Lelouch's mind grounded to an immediate halt.

What?

Cornelia offered to take his sister under her wings and Nunnally turned her down!

"Marika!"

"Oops, did I say something I shouldn't have?" Marika asked in a timid voice.

"Yes, you did," Nunnally answered resignedly, watching her brother's expression darken.

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"Why, WHY! Just tell me why, Nunnally."

Sitting in bed, Lelouch was beside himself.

Serving under Cornelia would have been perfect. Aside from the extraordinary prestige and the rapid promotion path it offered, it would've kept Nunnally reasonably safe. Instead, his darling sister accepted an assignment to the European Theater.

"Our current European operation is a giant black hole. We throw men and materials at it and nothing comes out. If we really were the superior race, we would've sued for peace months ago. It was a badly planned offensive campaign to start with, is being handled horribly by the current commanders and will likely be a political nightmare for us afterwards."

"Yes, I know, Brother. You've told me that countless times," said Nunnally dryly. If she wasn't sure he would be angry and hurt, she would've laughed at his expression and wild gestures.

"You exaggerate. I'll be fine. Brother Schneizel is going to take command of the campaign so you don't have to worry about me being sent on pointless suicide missions," Nunnally added with a touch of mirth.

Lelouch bristled. "That's not what I meant."

"I know what you mean" Nunnally knelt on his bed and wrapped her small arms around him. "I do, I really do, Lulu. I know about the battles you fight with our half siblings and the other nobles. I know how hard you worked to make sure sister Cornelia could make me this offer without looking improper. I know all that."

The dark-haired prince gave a wry grimace. "Nothing escapes you, huh?"

"We both know this is the best path for _both_ of us. I need, ahm, what's the expression, to earn my spurs. I can't do that if sister Cornelia is looking over my shoulder every time I go out. Schneizel won't do that, but he will look after me," the princess declared firmly. "Besides, he asked for me. I can't refuse him."

Lelouch wanted to protest, but seeing the fire in her eyes, he held his tongue. Nunnally was not entirely wrong. The Second Prince had come to their aid time and time again, without expecting anything in return. At their bleakest hour, it had been Schneizel's words and actions that stayed the hands and teeth of the ravenous noblemen. Barring himself, Schneizel was Nunnally favorite older brother by far. So perhaps, it was simply his jealousy wishing to speak out.

The Eleventh Prince squared his shoulders and nodded. "You're right. He has helped us so many times in the past. This time, if he really wants our help – your help…"

Nunnally squeezed him tighter in gratitude.

"That's not entirely why you accepted this assignment though," Lelouch guessed.

His precious sister shook her head. "No, most of my friends, including Marika, are being sent there. I didn't want to abandon them." A distinctively Nunnally-like response that Lelouch couldn't help but appreciate.

"Good. I'm glad you won't be alone."

He was being completely sincere. He would hate it if Nunnally was going off to war without a single friend by her side. Alas, it highlighted the fact that he on the other hand would be alone. It was an implication the sharp sister did not miss.

"Brother, can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked after a brief pause.

Although surprised by the request, Lelouch answered enthusiastically, "Of course! You never need to ask. You're always welcome in my bed."

Only after he said it did he realize how badly it could be misinterpreted.

Nunnally grinned mischievously. "Always, huh? I wonder what your future girlfriend or wife would say about that?"

"Oh you, devil you!"

The newly minted KMF pilot shrieked as her brother wrestled her to the bed and began tickling her without mercy. After reducing her to a laughing, quivering wreck, he began laying a trail of soft kisses along her exposed skin.

"Stop, stop! Don't do that. I haven't showered and I smell," Nunnally protested, though she did little to halt his actions.

"So? I don't mind."

"But I do."

Nunnally jumped up and rushed off to the bathroom. When she returned, Lelouch was laid out flat on his gigantic bed. She stripped down to her bare essentials and crawled under the covers. Instinctively, their bodies molded and folded together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle; their limbs intertwined and their heads resting gently against each other.

"I love you, Big Brother."

"I love you, Nunnally."

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**AN:** The starting premise is simple enough. Lelouch and Nunnally switched places during Marianne's assassination so that he ended up crippled in the attack, though not blinded. The second major idea was making Nunnally a Knightmare Frame ace or prospective ace, which was very appealing and quite plausible in my mind. Between Anya and the Valkyrie girls, I can even delve deeply into character dynamics without resorting to OCs, which is a huge boon.

Hope you enjoyed this appetizer. Comments, questions, concerns, please leave them in a review.


	2. The Chess Game of Life

**AN:** So the "unique" premises I mentioned last chapter weren't exactly unique as many of my readers already know. All you people who jumped on my ass an hour after I posted can rejoice about how you're right and the mighty God of Creation, I mean author, was wrong… for once. I should've done my research or posted earlier, hmm. I felt suitably foolish for my boisterous claims. We all eat humble pie sometimes, right?

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**Chapter 2: The Chess Game of Life**

"Check."

Lelouch stared dispassionately at the digital board, pausing for but a moment before moving the black king out of the way. His opponent, a mid-aged gentleman, tilted his head in confusion as if he couldn't believe the Prince of Chess made such an amateur mistake. In vacating to the only available square as opposed to interposing the check, the Britannian royalty allowed a knight fork, which would win white the exchange. Seeing nothing for his opponent, the white player happily accepted the proffered material surplus.

The raven-haired boy's face betrayed nothing, but he did bring his right hand to his mouth to cover the growing smile. In chess as in life, the best kind of traps was the one you fall into.

True, winning the exchange was important and often times game winning. But this was not one of those times. Given the position of the pieces and asymmetry in their development, the quantity of the pieces mattered far more than their quality.

Lelouch understood this, – hence why he did nothing to prevent it – just as he understood the fundamentals of chess: Develop your pieces quickly, put them on good squares, maintain center control, seize and hold the initiative and attack with the fastest and mostest. Contrary to popular conception, it wasn't clever tactical traps, ingenious sacrifices or even computer-like calculation skills themselves that determined the winners at the highest level of game play; rather it was mastery and execution of these fundamentals, fundamentals which every novice knew.

The Eleventh Prince calmly played on, slyly thinking of the countless online commentators who must have been predicting his demise. Oh did he have a surprise for them… and for his opponent. On the eighth move after losing the exchange, he began a forcing combination starting with a double pawn sac. And suddenly, the position of the board was completely altered.

White was up an exchange and two pawns – almost a rook up in material – and completely lost. He valiantly tried to hold off the black storm, offering a knight and then a rook in a futile attempt to break the attack. Lelouch calmly ignored these temptations, going straight for the white king instead. In short order, white's entire army was pinned to the defense. Effectively in zugzwang and hopelessly ensnared in black's mating net, Lelouch's grandmaster opponent and twice winner of the Atlantic Championship resigned on the twenty eighth move.

"Good match, your highness," Lelouch's white opponent praised, his face belying a stunned expression. "I daresay I know not the man who can stop you once you've set your heart on something."

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Lelouch lounged lazily on a plush sofa, sipping a warm cup of tea and relishing his recent win. It was a fantastic victory if he thought so himself. He completely outplayed his opponent over the board and didn't even have to rely on any home preparations. No doubt it would make those European prima donnas sit upright and take notice.

The Eleventh Prince bit savagely into a fresh crumpet. He was understandably sore about FIDE's continued refusal to award him the grandmaster title, ostensibly because of a technicality, but everyone knew it was a deliberate slight against Britannia. Even though the last two World Chess Champions were non-Europeans, the international chess community and its ruling body remained dominated by the continentals. So much for democracy!

The one thing that would've made his victory all the sweeter would've been if Nunnally was here to congratulate him. Alas, she was fighting in Europe. Lelouch tried not to think too hard about what that meant especially in light of the recent drought in communications between the siblings. They only led to nightmares for him at night.

"Your highest, his Excellency, the Prime Minister is on line one."

"Patch it through immediately."

"Congratulations on your win, little brother. That's your sixth win in a row against a grandmaster, right?" The image of the photogenic Second Prince smiled fondly at his younger sibling.

"Seventh actually, but who's counting." Lelouch gave a light chuckle. Chess was not merely his favorite pastime, but also his great passion, a passion that was fortunately undimmed by his disability. In fact, being crippled likely helped him improve his game by strengthening his resolve to triumph in the one field still open to him.

And triumph he did.

"Indeed, perhaps you should start giving me knight odds in our weekly games so I have a fighting chance," said Schneizel, only half in jest. Their brotherly matches have become something of a dull affair, not because of the lack of creativity or energetic play, but because of Lelouch's almost certain victory.

Gone were the days when Lelouch cowered before his seemingly invincible brother and had to fight for draws. In retrospect, this shouldn't have been too surprising.

For all his ability, Schneizel was an amateur player with extraordinary but unrefined talent, and likely no more than an expert level player. His duties and other interests precluded him from devoting the necessary time and attention to deeply study the game. Lelouch was under no such restraint and attacked the text and theories of chess with zeal, committing voluminous tomes of chess knowledge to memory. Schneizel, with his penchant for romantic play, proved ill equipped to deal with his younger brother's updated play book.

For his part, the White Prince accepted his younger brother's ascent with remarkable grace, and even lent his prestigious name and voice to promoting the game of chess both in the royal court and in public.

"You can even take rook odds and the white pieces if you want," Lelouch answered, his smile belying his confidence, "but not bishop odds. I need my bishops."

The two brothers shared a laugh. It was semi-well known that Lelouch greatly overvalued his bishop pairs, often times choosing to go into end games with two bishops against rook and minor piece.

"Thank you, but is there something else, Schneizel. I can't imagine you called all this way just to talk about chess when things are they way they are," Lelouch stated. "How's the war going on the European Front?"

The White Prince's serene smile dimmed ever so slightly. The subtle change in expression spoke volumes.

"Not so well, but I think you know that better than most people," Schneizel quipped, his icy blue eyes locking on to his.

While outside of the formal chain of command, Lelouch made good use of his royal prerogatives, judiciously courting officers and politicians with privileged access. As a result, the young teen was very well informed of all the major developments in the empire. He just didn't realize his elder brother was privy to his knowledge.

"Some at command are finally coming around to the possibility that we might've acted imprudently. Others who recall your earlier warnings are convinced you're the oracle."

"Don't you mean Cassandra?" Lelouch retorted, with a smidge of bitterness. Cassandra, being a reference to the Trojan prophetess Cassandra, who foresaw the treachery of the Greeks, but was cursed by the God Apollo for spurning his love so that no one believed her.

"Let's hope not." Schneizel gave a wry laugh. "Worry not, brother. We still have a few aces up our sleeves, dear Nunnally being one of them. Speaking of which, she's the reason I called today."

Lelouch instantly tensed. Despite vowing to speak and write to one another every day, contact between the Lamperouge siblings dropped off precipitously as time passed, which didn't surprise him. He understood that his sister had more important things to do than to write home or talk to him every day. But it had been well over three weeks since he last heard from his sister so he was understandably agitated.

"Don't worry, Lelouch, nothing bad has happened."

Lelouch found Schneizel's words less than reassuring considering his vaguely smug expression.

"I bring good news actually, mostly good news at least. She's being promoted to the permanent rank of major and will be given a brevet commission to lieutenant colonel so she can command her battalion."

"That's awfully quick, isn't it?" While policies of the empire did allow for rapid advancements, Lelouch didn't think it could've happened if it weren't for his sister's status. "What's the occasion?"

"As I understand it, she has effectively been leading her unit for a while now, ever since the battalion CO was killed in the Adriatic Assault. More importantly, her skills and experience will be needed in the upcoming Winter Campaign."

Winter Campaign? His contacts had suggested that high command would postpone all major operations until next spring. A deep frown mired the Eleventh Prince's otherwise handsome face.

"I take it she won't be coming home for Christmas?"

It was a deeply unsatisfying situation. Lelouch badly missed his beloved sister and he could only hope that she felt the same.

"This operation is critical and Nunnally is one of our best pilots and a fine tactician, which I'm sure you know already. I'm sorry." Here, Schneizel looked genuinely sorrowful, which made Lelouch feel just the tiniest bit of remorse for second guessing his brother's intentions.

Alas, it couldn't be helped, not when your loved one was in the military. The eleventh prince nodded. "Thank you for telling me, Schneizel. I'll make sure I send Nunnally a gift to congratulate her."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness. It's time for your scheduled physical therapy session."

The paraplegic prince fought down the urge to groan while Schneizel smiled knowingly.

"Very well, I won't keep you. Congratulations on your victory again, Lelouch. Take care." The image flickered out as the connection was cut.

"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be right out." Lelouch leaned back comfortably, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "At least Nunnally is safe," he muttered gratefully.

Even if he couldn't see her, knowing that she was well was enough. Part of him, the paranoid and cynical part, noted that the Prime Minister must have had his own agenda in providing this information, but Lelouch ignored it. From all appearance, Schneizel was simply being the benevolent older brother, looking after his disenfranchised younger siblings. It was a kind gesture and he was happy to accept it as such… for now.

XXXXXXXXXX

As high noon came and passed, several dozen members of Britannia's upper crest, all bearing the imperial royal crest, milled around the Hamilton Imperial Chambers. Whispers hushed and eyes turned as a tall, broad shouldered man stepped into the room.

"Brother Odysseus, good to see you," one sibling greeted.

While not exactly the darling of the Empire and quickly becoming overshadowed by the charismatic and eloquent White Prince, Odysseus eu Britannia was still the crown prince and was rendered the respect his title deserved. His mild and gregarious nature also meant that he was less likely to incur the wrath of jealous nobles and royalties whose favor and presence the cold and calculating Schneizel sometimes spurned.

"How's Guinevere?"

"Same as always."

"I've heard a rumor that she's having a strip mall built in the middle of a desert?"

"I'm afraid it's no rumor," Odysseus admitted.

The siblings shared wry chuckles. Royalty had its privileges, certainly, but the First Princess took it to a whole new level. And since the death of her mother, none have been able to curb the materialistic young woman's excesses. Of course, few of the royal family truly felt bad about their elder sibling's behavior. What did the bulk of them know about the misery and suffering of ordinary citizens, much less the plight of the indigenous people of the Areas? More likely, Guinevere's actions only comforted them by making their own indulgences and dalliances seem tame by comparison.

It was no coincidence that the weekly royal meetings were held in the extravagantly decorated Hamilton Imperial Chambers. No less important was its rich historic significance. The conquest of the Western Hemisphere, implementation of the Area system and adaptation of the Knightmare Frame Revolutionary Warfare Program were all said to have been decided in this very room.

There was even a lively debate as to whether the room was named after Alexander Hamilton, the rebel-turned-Chancellor of the Exchequer who introduced the Britannian System as the successor economic model to Classical Mercantilism, or Alfred Pickett Hamilton, the great grandson of the disgraced Horatio Nelson through his illegitimate daughter, who avenged his forefather by annihilating the Prussian High Seas Fleet at the Second Battle of Jutland. Cornelia, for one, was convinced the moniker came from the Grand Admiral of the Royal Imperial Navy where as Schneizel was more inclined to believe the august chamber was named after one of the founding fathers of modern Britannian economic policy.

"Other than Schneizel, are we all here?" Odysseus finally asked, scanning the faces of his half siblings.

"I believe Lelouch begged off as well."

The crown prince thought this was rather unfortunate as his younger brother always had something insightful to say even if he didn't always say them in the most diplomatic manner.

"Good riddance. We're better off without that whiner."

"Cassius," Odysseus warned.

"What? It's true. He's always complaining about one thing or another. _'We can't do this. We shouldn't do that. Doing that would be a mistake.'_ He's such a pessimist and always trying to make everyone as miserable as himself!"

"That's pretty harsh."

"My brother's right!" Carline shouted. "He has become worse than Nunnally even." Everyone knew just how well those two half-sisters got along with each other.

"You know I'm right," Cassius continued. "Just last week, he tried to argue that Admiral Hamilton's victory at Jutland was in fact a disaster for us and a blessing in disguise for the Europeans!" It was a ludicrous notion that he felt shouldn't have seen the light of day. "What gull! Don't you agree Cornelia?"

The Second Princess had been shocked and furious by Lelouch's remarks. Hamilton was one of the Empire's beloved sons, the man who erased the shame and humiliation of Trafalgar and helped make Britannian a maritime powerhouse across two oceans, and one of Cornelia's heroes.

"I've said all I needed to say," answered the image of the Witch of Britannia crossly. She was noticeably upset so Cassius didn't press the issue. Not even the most provocative of princes and princesses dared to test the patience of the Witch of Britannia when she was in a foul mood. Her silence, however, was enough to spur on the other Lamperouge detractors, of which there was no shortage, from teeing off on their absentee sibling.

"…All I'm saying is that I thought Lelouch would've been made of sterner stuff considering his mother was Marianne the Flash and his sister is doing her fair share," Pollux quipped.

"Maybe he's got the weak blood," Castor, his twin brother added.

"Or maybe all that French blood in his veins is making him a coward. Did you know that his favorite food is French cuisine?"

"That's far enough, Pollux! If not for Lady Marianne, our father would never have become Emperor." Cornelia cried at last. Whatever her disagreements with her younger brother, she wasn't about to allow others character assassinate him behind his back. "One more slander against Her Majesty's memory or her children and you'll find out what it means to be interrogated by the Imperial Secret Service for sedition!"

The gossip and catty chatter instantly stopped. Even behind a screen, the Deputy Chief of Staff was imposing to say the least. The hyenas quieted before the mighty roar of the lioness.

It should be noted that like all societies, Britannia had its norms and standards. The national genealogy of a name like Marianne Lamperouge wasn't exactly difficult to trace and the implications of such an investigation, while obvious was carefully avoided in polite company. Of all the national enmities, none was held closer to Britannia's bosoms than the age old hatred toward the French, which has only swelled and festered with time, but most especially after Napoleon invaded and occupied their homeland, the British Isles, in the aftermath of the Trafalgar disaster. Jutland partly remedied that humiliation, but Britannia intended one day to repay the bill in full.

"I agree. Such words have no place amongst brothers and sisters of the same family." Odysseus chided, lending his benevolent if belated and feeble voice to the Lamperouge's defense. But the united front from the senior royalties present was enough to put a stop to the petty hate war against Lelouch and the meeting moved on to more mundane affairs.

And since these were mundane affairs, Cornelia paid them no mind. She was a soldier, not a politician, not strictly speaking that is. Instead, her mind was preoccupied with the heated exchange she had with her rebellious paraplegic half-brother.

"_Don't make me sound like an idiotic pacifist, Cornelia! I know about the importance of tangible strength, brawn, military prowess, what have you. I'm not saying they don't matter."_

"_What are you saying?"  
_

"_I'm saying that our evaluation of their values isn't always correct. A tactical victory doesn't always suggest a strategic or political victory."_

"_This isn't one of your chess games!" _

"_No, it's something far more important. Jutland was one of the worst military defeats suffered by a European power, yet it was what made the EU possible. It discredited the Euro-phobic Prussian leadership and destroyed their ambitions for Greater Germany. Their defeat paved the way for the French-German détente and sowed the seeds for the Community of European Sponsored States, which eventually evolved into the Euro Universe. You know I'm right, Cornelia!"_

It had only gotten worse from that point on as subtle snipping between the normally close siblings devolved into a hostile exchange involving bitterly divided opinions and personal attacks.

"…_Our European strategy isn't Divide and Conquer, not even close. If anything, we're doing the exact opposite. Since the invasion, the Europeans have banded closer together than ever before; French and German rivalries muted, Russian and Polish border disputes extinguished, Serbian and Croatian ethnic tensions all but disappeared… I refuse to lose my sister to this god-forsaken misadventure in Europe when you know and I know that this was a mistake!"_

"_Your sister knows what duty to country and family means unlike a certain brother of hers who's busy throwing a temper tantrum! And Britannia does not need a cripple to teach her foreign policy, Lulu!"_

The meeting had ended on that acrimonious note. In her defense, Cornelia had been understandably upset about Lelouch's open rebellion and hostility. Hadn't she been a good sister and a protector of him and Nunnally in their hour of vulnerability and this was how he repaid her? With scorn and derision.

None of that mattered to Euphemia, however. She should've been surprised by her sister's reaction when she found out, but she really wasn't. Her kind hearted younger sibling always did adore Marianne's son, alternatively playing and fighting with Nunnally for his time and affection.

"_You know how sensitive Lelouch is about his condition! Everyone is always making fun of him. How could you be so mean, especially when he was just speaking the truth!"_

"_Wait? What! How did you know that?"_

"_He told me already, duh. We talk about stuff all the time, well, he does most of the talking since he knows more. I might not understand the world as well as him, but I know when he's right about something, and I think he's right about the history of the Euro Universe."_

The Second Princess made her first mistake by not taking her sister's comment seriously, understandable as it were. Cornelia loved Euphemia dearly, but it was hard to find her sister's assessment of world events credible when she was struggling with her own history lessons.

"_What do you mean you won't apologize?"_

"Why should I apologize?"

"_Because you're wrong and he's right!"_

"_Euphie, when you're older, you'll understand."_

Second mistake. Cornelia realized belatedly that being patronizing to her little sister never ended well.

"_Oh really sister? Are you sure it's not because you're the Deputy Chief of Staff of Imperial High Command so you can't say anything that contradicts dogma?"_

Under different circumstances, Cornelia might have even been proud of her sister for showing some backbone. At the time however, she found it hard to remain objective. Again voices were raised and harsh words spoken and the end result was that her own sister refused to speak to her until she apologized to Lelouch.

By the time the royal meeting drew to a close, the distracted princess had made her decision.

Cornelia li Britannia, the Witch of Britannia and one of the Empire's most powerful and skilled Knightmare Pilots and field commanders was going to apologize. She was going to apologize not because she was backed to a wall by her traitorous sister or because she should be the adult and take the first step to patch up, but because she was wrong and they were right.

Only her pride kept her from admitting that just quite yet.

"That's all for today. Good luck, brothers and sisters. Thank you for dropping by, Cornelia and for your earlier report on Australia," Odysseus stated.

The Second Princess merely grunted her acknowledgment before cutting the feed.

The most damning thing about the whole thing, though, is that if she talked to Schneizel, Cornelia suspected the Prime Minister would agree with their younger siblings.

XXXXXXXXXX

Deep in the bowels of Aries Imperial Villa, Lelouch held solitary court over his domain, which consisted of tomes of texts and documents, official reports and research data piled high on his mahogany work desk. Every now and then he would pause to add scribbles to the margins of the documents he was perusing. Alas, his usual speed and efficacy as well as reputed multi-tasking skills were lacking.

As usual, the physical therapy session had been strenuous and exhausting and he had little to show for it except for sore arms and back. The constant body aches were a distraction. Not to mention Alfred was taking unusually long to prepare the herbal tea.

"Your Highest, your tea is ready. I apologize for the delay," the voice called out from behind the doors.

"Bring it in."

By this point, Lelouch had given on making any progress toward his daily goals, and had retreated to his hobby. He set up a chess board was quickly absorbed in his own thoughts.

"You can set it anywhere," he added gruffly, not bothering to look up.

"Oh, Lelouch, I'm so disappointed. I thought you would be happy to see me after all this time."

Lelouch nearly dropped the chess manual in his hand as he jerked his heard toward the newcomer.

"Euphie!"

The mass of white and pink launched herself at the wheelchair bound young man, who reflexively caught her. His previous discomforts were forgotten as the smiling princess rained multiple kisses on his hapless, but unresisting form.

"I missed you, Lulu."

"Euphie, I…"

Unwilling to give her beloved sibling a word in edge wise just yet, she applied a searing mouth to mouth kiss, tongue and all. When the siblings finally separated, Lelouch wore a shell shocked look while the Third Princess grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

"Euphie!"

"Is that all you can say, big brother?" Was the light hearted teasing reply.

"What was that? You didn't kiss like that before." Lelouch figured it was better to go on the offense as opposed to continue stuttering like a fool. Euphemia had always been an affectionate, energetic and touchy-feely sort of girl, but this was on a whole new level.

"No, but only because I didn't know it could be so fun," the girl responded with a mischievous glean in her eyes.

"How was Australia?" Lelouch asked, hoping to change the subject.

Euphemia allowed it without a pip of protest, knowing that she had all the time in the world to work on her brother now that Nunnally was three thousand miles away.

"Great! It's a wonderful country," she answered, snuggling comfortably in Lelouch's laps. "I visited the outback, went on a safari tour on Kangaroo Island and watched a beautiful sunset from the top of Ayers Rock! I wished you were there with me," she continued excitedly.

Athletic and carefree, the Third Princess loved the outdoors in general and the wilderness in particular and never tired of trying to drag her indoorsy brother away from his hermit-like existence.

"I thought Cornelia was with you?"

Euphemia gave a small, almost imperceptible scowl. "She spent most of the time in meetings with government and military officials, even though we were supposed to be on vacation. I swear she's a workaholic, just like you!"

Lelouch chuckled. That sounded like Cornelia alright, though she likely wouldn't have to deal with such affairs for much longer. Her tenure as Deputy Chief of Staff of Imperial High Command was coming to an end and rumor had it that she was interested in a field command afterwards. The armchair generalship of being administrative staff undoubtedly proved unsatisfying to the fire and brimstone soldier.

The Australians, for their part, had very good reason to try and seize as much of the ranking princess's time as possible. In the trilateral world of Britannia, the EU and the Chinese Federation, Australia was one of the few anomalies that remained "free," with extra emphasis on the word in quotations. It had its own standing military, but needed permission from Imperial High Command to launch a rescue mission in waters twenty miles from Sydney. It had its own monetary system, subject to review by a representative of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. It had its own foreign policy, which just happened to mirror Britannia's. No one was under any delusions about the nature of their relationship.

Not all partners are created equal.

Lelouch suspected that the rapid and comprehensive conquest of Cambodia and Japan heightened Australia's concerns. Not out of any real fear of conquest, of course, since that wouldn't benefit Britannia in the least bit, not when it was already getting everything it could ask for. Rather its concern was regarding the island nation's future role in the Britannian sphere of influence. With the new territories firmly under Britannian control, the strategic significance of Australia as a forward base and staging area for the mighty Pacific Fleet was significantly reduced.

"A number of people did ask sister and me about you, Lelouch. I never knew you were so popular amongst the chess fans of that country. They all wanted to know if you would be attending the Australian Open next year."

That wasn't terribly surprising. Even barring his royal pedigree, Lelouch's reputation in chess preceded him everywhere he went. He was undisputedly the strongest player in the world under twenty years of age and easily one of the top ten in the world. However, he imagined his popularity in Australia might have had more to do with his unusual adventure in the previous Open Tournament.

Euphemia chose at this moment to produce a large print that caused Lelouch to groan in disgust. The paper had the heading: "His Highness's Grand Toilet Victory!" along with a picture of a lavatory. How colorful. Damn those Aussies and their sense of humor.

Long story short, the talented Britannian royalty had been present at the Australian Chess Open two years ago. He ate some exotic seafood beforehand, which while pleasing to his palate, proved to be less than pleasing to his digestive system and he had to make frequent bathroom runs during the course of the tournament. It was during one of those instances that he discovered an opening novelty that led to a spectacular game and win against Australia's strongest grandmaster.

High on adrenaline and short on common sense, Lelouch carelessly mentioned this during the post game analysis and some smart alecks decided to dub his move the "Grand Toilet Variation" or simply the "Toilet." Needless to say, the name caught on, much to the creator's chagrin and embarrassment.

"Stop laughing! It's not _that_ funny."

Euphemia clearly thought differently and if anything, increased her rancorous laughter.

"I can always bend you over my knees," Lelouch threatened.

"Oh, I'm so fwightened," the pink-haired princess cooed. "Go ahead if you must. I can't stop you," she teased with mock terror, knowing, of course, that her brother was a big softy and would never lay a hand on her.

Lelouch half-heartedly grumbled about a certain annoying sister who would one day get her comeuppance.

"It's good to see you, Euphie. I mean it," the crippled prince noted after the laughter and friendly jostling died down. "I'm surprised Cornelia allowed you to leave her side and visit me."

"Who said she did?"

That was a shocker. Dear, kind, sweet and gentle Euphie defying the cold, iron-fisted Witch of Britannia? Surely not. Lelouch instantly became serious, his expression hardening.

"What happened?"

"I learned what happened, said that she was wrong and that I wouldn't speak to her until she apologized," Euphemia answered with a negligent shrug.

What! If there was one thing he knew about his elder sister, it was that she did not bow down to ultimatums. And if there was another thing he knew, the li Britannia sisters cherished one another. Would Euphemia really carry out her threat? The concerned prince voiced his thoughts.

"Too late for that. I already made my decision," the princess answered calmly, too calmly for Lelouch's peace of mind. "But if you're really worried, you could always apologize to my sister as well. That'll make it easier for her to apologize so we wouldn't have to avoid each other."

"What? Why do I have to apologize when you just said I was right!

"Because it would make me happy to see my favorite siblings get along again."

Lelouch stared at his sister in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound. Was he just outmaneuvered? And by sweet Euphie of all people?

The outcast prince groaned and muttered, but finally nodded in resignation. Euphemia squeed with joy and showered him with appreciative kisses.

"Since when did you get so sneaky?" Lelouch asked later. Said princess merely answered with her trademark angelic smile.

XXXXXXXXXX

"It's getting late." Lelouch pointed out.

"Yes, it is. I guess I better stay the night."

Maybe he was just being naïve or maybe the whirlwind of events simply left him a bit dazzled, but Lelouch didn't quite get it until Euphemia appeared after her shower by his bedside.

"I hope you don't mind if I sleep with you tonight, Lulu."

It was true that Euphemia had shared his bed before, often with Nunnally as well. The royal threesome as his mother fondly called them, way back when none of the children had any idea of the possible implication of the term. And when certain physiological differences between the sexes were less pronounced. Clad in a sheer pink teddy that made him wonder how she hid that one away from her sister, Lelouch became acutely aware of his sister's growing assets. Euphemia definitely took after her buxom sister in that regard.

Even as the pink-haired princess crawled under the bed covers, intoxicating him with the fresh scent of strawberries and lavender, Lelouch remained hesitant. He was sheltered, but not dumb and naïve. He knew his relationship with Nunnally was unorthodox to say the least and understood that while it offered tremendous emotional benefits, it also demanded certain concessions. Nunnally wouldn't have been trilled about him taking another girl to bed during her absence, even if the other girl was Euphemia… especially if the other girl was Euphemia.

"Euphie. I don't think–"

"Shh, it's ok." Euphemia silenced him with a gesture. "Nunnally mentioned you sometimes had nightmares while sleeping alone. What kind of sister would I be if I didn't look after her brother?" Serendipitously forgetting the fact that she had dozens of brothers.

Far from convinced, but tired and wary, Lelouch relented once again to the masterful ministrations of his wiry half-sibling. He settled against her body, trying his best to ignore her near nakedness, a task made somewhat easier given his exhaustion. At least he was comforted by the knowledge that Nunnally knew and approved… or so he thought.

"Alright. Good night, Euphie and thank you." His gratitude and appreciation sincere as it could be.

The Third Princess held silent vigil as Lelouch drifted off to a peaceful slumber, like a protective mother watching over her cub or a possessive lover guarding her paramour. Surely she couldn't be blamed if dear Lulu drew his own conclusions. She traced a pale slender hand across his peaceful face, tenderly caressing his features.

Lelouch. Even though he didn't know what, her dear Lulu was perceptive enough to detect a major change in her demeanor, a change resulting from her recently made fateful decision. For even if he had been wrong in his altercation with Cornelia, she would've still sided with him.

Euphemia li Britannia made her bed and was more than prepared to lie in it. She snuggled closer against the center of her world. And what a warm and comfortable bed it was!

"I love you, Lelouch."

XXXXXXXXXX

**Chess Notes:** A ton of notes regarding terminologies for those interested.

At the beginning, what Lelouch did is called the exchange sacrifice where he traded a rook for a minor piece, a knight in this case. The rook is in theory more valuable than the knight, so you generally don't want to let this happen. A skilled player, however, can use this tactic to gain a large and lasting positional advantage. Specifically, the middle game exchange sac – what I tried to show Lelouch doing – is a very common theme and something of a mastered art for high level players.

An expert level player is a non-international title and rated around 2000 in the US while a grandmaster is an international title, needs to reach 2500 in the ELO rating and be able to perform at something like 2600 ELO in a few internationally sanctioned tournaments.

Romantic chess refers to the period before modern chess (look up the Immortal Game and Evergreen Game) when stylistic and swashbuckling play was considered more important than winning. Amateurs love these games because they look nice and there are usually a lot of flashy sacrifices, but they are often "imprecise" or "unsound" by modern standards.

Yes, there is such a thing as the Toilet Variation in chess and was discovered in a similar manner. It arises when white chooses to decline the Tal Gambit, which is black's strong reply to the Grand Prix Attack in the Sicilian Defense opening (quite a mouthful for just five half moves). I used it purely for the humor as it isn't a particularly good line for white.

**Historic Notes:** Fictitious history, who loves it? Raise your hand! *Author raises both hands* Some items were based on canon like the British defeat at Trafalgar, but others were spontaneously generated like the fictional Admiral Hamilton and the Second Battle of Jutland. History buffs might get a kick out of separating reality, fiction and canonical fiction – please tell me if you do – but don't worry if you don't. You aren't missing much and I keep the transitions fairly seamless.

**Final AN:** Sadly no Nunnally. You'll have to settle for some Lelouch – Euphemia moments instead. Am I evil? Say it with me, yes I am evil! I imagine I'll need to add an incest warning if only out of respect for my readers, but it hasn't reached that point yet.


	3. Christmas Campaign

**Chapter 3: Christmas Campaign**

"Happy Birthday, Lelouch. Still working late as always?"

The Eleventh Prince stared at the screen and then at the clock that read 10:30 PM.

"Clovis! What a wonderful surprise. You're a day early aren't you?" Lelouch smiled slightly at the image of his half-sibling drabbed in his most dashing regal finery. "Today's the fourth."

Clovis la Britannia was an interesting figure to say the least. Vain, preppy and the epitome of a royal snub, he was a thoroughly unpleasant character to be around with under normal circumstances, but he had also been kind and generous to the Lamperouge siblings when it had mattered most. Neither Nunnally nor Lelouch ever forgot that.

"Ah, my mistake. The time difference always gets me mixed up. Did you receive my gift?"

"I did and thank you for that."

The Third Prince was also a huge patron of the arts and had apparently hosted a contest in honor of Marianne the Flash. He sent the original work of the first place winner to Aries Villa as an early birthday gift, a gesture Lelouch deeply appreciated.

"Who drew it?"

"A very promising second year Eleven student from Lady Margaret's Preparatory School. Did you like it?"

An Eleven? That was a surprise.

"I love it and I know Mother would've approved."

"Yes, I know. My education minister did make a whole lot of fuss about it though. Didn't think Elevens should've been allowed to participate much less win first place. I hope that's not a problem?"

"Of course not."

Even if Lelouch was inclined to be excessively jingoistic, it would've been hard for him to look down – figuratively as well as literally – on the ethnicity of others when they could walk on two legs and he couldn't.

"Good, I'm sure the artist would be thrilled," Clovis stated with sincerity.

Lelouch couldn't help but find irony in the child's enthusiasm, that he and his peers wished to exalt and celebrate one of the figures that contributed – albeit indirectly – to their homeland's subjugation.

"I'm sorry I can't make it to your birthday gathering this year. My obligations here…"

"I understand, Clovis." Lelouch had read the intelligence reports regarding the JLA.

The Viceroy of Area 11 nodded his thanks and bid him goodbye before closing the link. Lelouch stared at the clock again. It was almost midnight and his birthday. It would be the first one his sister, Nunnally, would not be a part of. Not wishing to dwell on that depressing thought, he decided to whip up a late night snack to settle his mind.

XXXXXXXX

"Surprise!"

Lelouch gasped as he fell unceremoniously off his wheelchair.

"Argh, I've been blind!"

Laughter mingled with the explosions of lights and confetti. Arms quickly picked the paraplegic off the floor and settled him back in his chair.

"Oh no, Lelouch! Are you all right?"

"I will be… in a bit." Lelouch groggily shook his head and tested his vision. He stared at the concerned expressions of his favorite sisters. Oh good, he could still see because being blind and crippled would not have been a good combination.

"Nunnally! Euphie!" he cried in recognition, enveloping his girls with a heartfelt embrace, before turning his attention to his older siblings in attendance.

"Clovis, you sneaky bastard!" cried the wheel chaired prince in mock anger.

"Look who's talking." The pompous git was on cloud nine for having successfully fooled his shrewd younger brother, but Lelouch could hardly fault him. It was a fairly rare occurrence.

"I realize we're a day early, but Happy Birthday, Lelouch," Schneizel offered with a gentle smile.

"What about preparing for the operation?"

"It could wait," quipped the Chancellor with a knowing smile.

"I missed you, big brother."

Nunnally approached with outstretched arms. Her brother needed no further prompting and hugged her once again, but with far greater emotion and longing.

When she left for war, Nunnally had been a lovely girl, but now she was a young woman. She had gained at least three inches in height and carried herself with a poise and grace that was reminiscent of Cornelia. She had become hard and strong as expected of one forged in battle, but remained soft and feminine as well, a fact that Lelouch couldn't help but notice and appreciate.

Feeling conscious, the Eleventh Prince broke the embrace. If others noticed his discomfort, they kept it to themselves.

"Given your hobby and your latest victory, we wanted to present you with this in person," Schneizel explained as he produced a rectangular box.

Lelouch unwrapped the gift to find an exquisitely carved wood and ivory chess set with distinctly exotic figurines.

"This set was supposedly brought into Europe in the early 9th century by Islamic traders during the Sassanid era and eventually found its way into the private collection of Napoleon."

Lelouch was impressed. Not only did it look authentic, the pieces bared remarkable resemblance to the shatranj game of old, widely believed to be the early processor to the modern game of chess. He ran a hand gently over the colored, but still distinctive curvatures of the pieces. All that remained was to run a radiocarbon test.

"I-I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"It was Nunnally's idea so most of the credit should go to her."

"You raided the Louvre just to find the perfect birthday gift for me?" Lelouch exclaimed, only half in jest. "I'm touched."

"Of course, anything for you, big brother!" He noticed, however, that she was _not_ joking.

XXXXXXXX

"But you've only been back for a few hours!" Lelouch exclaimed with a deep frown, the luscious slice of orange flavored ice cream cake forgotten. The disabled prince was not happy. It seemed indescribably cruel to return his precious sister to him only to take her away almost immediately.

"A few hours was the most we could afford," Schneizel was apologetic as he delicately polished off his diary treat.

"I'm sorry, brother. I promise to make it up to you after the operation. The Chancellor pulled a number of favors to allow us to get away as is," Nunnally explained.

"Of course, you're welcome to return with us," the Chancellor added. "I'm sure Nunnally would appreciate the moral support and cousin Juliet is very interested in seeing you again. I'd also personally consider it a favor to myself if you would come. The current operation is largely based on the operational doctrines and articles you wrote for the Imperial Journal of Military Studies."

"They were supposed to be anonymous and I recall them not being well received."

"That was then. When the campaign stalled, your articles became much better circulated. Some did figure out who the author was, but for the most part, your anonymity is still assured."

So that was his game! Lelouch had been genuinely surprised to see the Chancellor take a break from his duties to visit him. How foolish. Of course he had an ulterior motive. The shrewd politician wanted to recruit his politically weak, but brilliant, half brother for an eleventh hour strategy session. And he somehow co-opted Nunnally into his little plan too.

Lelouch almost refused, such was weight of his pride, but then he saw the hopeful expression on his sister's face. He could split hairs about being played like a fiddle or he could go and understand what it was that Nunnally went through every day.

"Very well, I'll go with you. I'll need to inform Alfred of my imminent departure."

Schneizel cracked a smile, like a triumphant victor.

"Excellent! We'll depart in two hours time. In the meantime, you should consider spending some time with Euphie. I believe she's unhappy about us monopolizing all of your time."

Indeed, the pink-haired princess was currently looking forlornly at the gathering of her siblings. Not one to be insensitive about his sibling's feelings, Lelouch quickly wheeled himself over, to the amusement of the Chancellor and his blood sibling.

XXXXXXXX

Seventy two hours and half a dozen meetings later, Lelouch found himself calmly perched atop a steep cliff overlooking the bristling port city of Valletta, the capital port city of Malta and Headquarters of Britannia's EU Expeditionary Force.

The tiny island of Malta, situated just 93 km from Sicily, has been a flash point between the combatants since conflict began. The European Combined Air Fleets ran no less than twenty thousand sorties against the island's harbors and infrastructure before the Imperial Air Force established air superiority. Even now, Britannia gunships conducted constant aerial patrols while a sizeable flotilla lay offshore to provide seaside protection.

Lelouch watched several squadrons of VTOL transports screaming overhead toward the European frontline. Their functions would become all too apparent in the coming days.

"I was told you would be here."

"Governor General!"

"Juliet is fine, Lelouch," the woman chuckled. "I'm no general and with the military running things, I'm not much of a governor either."

Princess Juliet ze Britannia was a niece of Emperor Charles and born in the waning days of her uncle's succession crisis. She was one of a handful of relatives who retained their titles and stations even as their immediate families became casualties in the bloody royal struggle. In spite of, or perhaps because of, their past, these survivors often developed a very independent streak. As Governor General – but not viceroy – of a region bordering hostile entities like the Euro Universe, Juliet often clashed with Britannian military commanders and imperial representatives. Her consistent opposition to the hawkish policies and tough standards of the powerful Blue Wings also earned her the ire of the oligarchs and aristocrats at the imperial court in Pendragon.

"I'm glad to see you well. I heard that Earl Rosenkreuz tried to have you removed."

"I know. I was surprised as well, but the Chancellor spoke on my behalf."

Of course. If there was anyone who could talk the leader of the Blue Wings from anything, it was Schneizel. How convenient.

"I hope you haven't been too depressed, living by yourself, although I'm sure Euphie provides good company."

The princess chuckled at her cousin's nondescript grunt. His status within the court notwithstanding, the Eleventh Prince's unique relationship with his female siblings has always a favorite subject of speculation. Personally, Lelouch thought it was jealousy. Clovis and Schneizel, they could understand, but fawning over the physically challenged peasant royalty was beyond most nobles.

"Yes, she has been a great help," Lelouch admitted uncomfortably. When they were young, Euphemia's antics were embarrassing, but harmless. As they grew older and her physical affectations remained unchanged, it was becoming something else.

"I guess you're at that age when you start having those dreams." The princess burst into laughter as Lelouch blushed a deep red, like a tomato. "I apologize, Lelouch, but I forget how young you really are sometimes."

Juliet turned away and motioned the young prince to follow.

"I don't presume to understand your relationship with your sister, but you need not worry too much about how others will think. The tabloids and your enemies will, of course, say what they will, but they would do so regardless of who you become involved with."

The Eleventh Prince listened attentively, but offered no response. This certainly wasn't the sort of "advice" he was expecting.

"After all, it's an open secret that your father was involved with two of his blood sisters before the succession crisis." Lelouch stopped and turned to the older woman with a frown. What was left unsaid was that the illicit liaisons stopped because Charles's personal knight and later lover exterminated that side of the royal family.

Given Juliet's generally affable demeanor and her generally warm relationships with the vi Britannia children, it was easy to forget the past.

"What are you trying to say?" A sudden edge finding its way into Lelouch's voice.

"It wasn't an accusation, and I've long since overcome the Empress's role in my mother and brother's death," Juilette explained quickly. "I don't blame you or Nunnally, despite what your sister thinks."

For whatever reason, Nunnally never developed a good rapport with her older cousin. Perhaps it was because the older princess was fond of the idea of Lelouch and Euphemia as a royal couple and was quite vocal about it.

Prefacing her words with a sigh, Juliet spoke what was really on her mind, "I just don't want to see you hurt because there are many who have not forgotten Marianne's blood stained hands. The capital is not going to be a pleasant place for you in the near future, Lelouch. It'll be fine for your sister because she is a hero in the eyes of the people and the nobles, but not for you. And she can't protect you even if she wants to."

Lelouch looked at her as if she was crazy. "Nunnally loves me."

"Absolutely and unequivocally, but are you sure you know, really, truly know what that means? I don't have to tell you that war changes people, especially when someone has been on the frontlines for as long as Nunnally has. The same thing happened to Cornelia."

That was the other thing about conversing with Juliet. It made for a very frustrating experience since she had some very pointed and controversial opinions and god help you if you didn't see eye to eye with her on those issues.

In contrast with Euphemia, Juliet did not get along with Cornelia at all. And while Lelouch was no peacenik, Juilette most definitely was. At one point, she was accused of being "an EU sympathizing, pinko, hippy cloaked in imperial purple" by a conservative circulation. It was an accusation Juliet did not try all that hard to deny. It made her appointment at one of the empire's most militarily saturated frontier regions all the more inexplicable.

"You think the Blue Wings are going to start a civil war? I find that hard to believe." Some of its more extreme members might be pretty nuts, but surely not that nutty.

Juliet refused to elaborate, leaving Lelouch confused and annoyed.

"I just want you to be careful and not become overconfident when we win in Europe," she commented in jest, perhaps trying to lighten the conversation. "Just because you were the brains behind the operation doesn't mean they'll be eager to give you all the credit."

That bit of insight really surprised Lelouch. While Princess Juliet could very well have been privy to some of the strategic ideas discussed because of her position as the local Governor – General, how could she possess such certainty about the ultimate military outcome?

"You were always the smartest and the brightest amongst Charles's progeny, Lelouch. Now that high command is following your dictates, do you not think we would be victorious?" The rhetorical question evoked no response from the prince.

"And what a shame that would be, for us to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat when we deserved defeat."

A stunning statement from a Britannian royalty. Lelouch's facial expression must have said as much because Juliet elaborated, "We had a strategically lost position in Europe, but will now likely triumph because of a clever tactical resource, a resource which you discovered, Lelouch."

Lelouch allowed those words to stew in his mind as they descended from the high terrain with Juliet slowly pushing him along toward the security entourage.

"It was good seeing you one last time, Lelouch. I always did like you best."

The Eleventh Prince frowned. What a curious choice of words. Before he could respond, a tall man with Mediterranean complexion stopped in front of them. Despite not wearing the uniform of security personnel, Lelouch wasn't concerned and neither was Princess Juliet, who met him with a warm smile.

Neither royalty recognized the semi-automatic pistol being raised until it was too late.

Lelouch was thrown to the ground in an instant, either by reflex or by the force of the princess pushing his wheelchair away as the first bullets hit her. The Eleventh Prince blacked out just as the security detail swarmed over them and cut the assailant down with a hail of bullets.

XXXXXXXX

Lelouch opened his eyes heavily lidded slowly and with great exertion. He spun his head to take in his surroundings, like a lethargic animal awakening from a deep hibernation. White sheets, white walls, and sterile air. It didn't take long for him to recognize the stale environment of a hospital room. The prince reached for the call button to request assistance only to find his arm hindered. His eyes settled on the waves of pink hair splayed over his torso.

"Euphie?"

The princess flinched and blearily came to. Her large purple eyes stared incredulously at Lelouch's surprised expression.

"Lulu! You're alive!" And with that, the pinkette swept in with kisses and caresses.

"Oh, I'm supposed to get the doctor if you woke up. Wait here and don't move!" Just as quickly, the princess was gone, leaving Lelouch gaping with an open mouth.

Minutes later, an elderly physician accompanied by a cohort of nurses and aids flooded the room. Lelouch founded himself poked and prodded like some inert specimen before the attending doctor provided his diagnosis.

"You're most fortunate, Your Highness," he noted with a pleased smile. "For a while, we were concerned you wouldn't wake from your coma. A bullet fragment caused sub dermal hemorrhaging, but that has healed now."

"Where am I? And how long was I out?"

"You're at the Lady Eleanor Hospital, also known as Dar Al-Fouad Hospital in Cairo, Area 16, and you've been comatose for just under three weeks."

Three weeks.

"I'd recommend plenty of fluid, food and rest, but I'm giving you a clean bill of health."

Euphemia gave the doctor a look. Taking heed, the physician nodded, dismissed the medical assistants and excused himself. "An officer from the Chancellor's Office will be here shortly to brief you on recent events. By your leave, Your Highnesses."

As soon as the man had left, the pink-haired princess threw herself over her brother. "I was so worried, Lulu! I thought I lost you forever!"

Lelouch could not help smiling. If he was stuck in the hospital for a bit longer, it helped to have good company, and Euphemia was most certainly very good company.

"I'm fine. I wasn't the target." The young prince paused before voicing his fear. "Juliet's gone, isn't she?"

Euphemia, with an ashen face, nodded slowly. "She died on the operating table." While Euphie looked up to and loved her blood sister dearly, it was the pacific Princess Juliet that served as the Third Princess's role model.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm just glad you survived." Fearful of the implications, but cognizant of the need for security, (i.e. how exactly did an assassin get to an Imperial Princess surrounded by security?) the duo avoided the topic. Instead, Lelouch quizzed his sister on recent events so that by the time Schneizel's representative arrived, he was already up to date.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. I hope you're recovering well." The speaker was a tall, well dressed young man, with rosy pink cum burgundy hair.

Euphemia looked between the two.

"I love you, Lelouch. I'll see you tomorrow," she gushed, before making her exit. The officer bowed gracefully as she passed.

"I'm Earl Kanon Maldini, Prince Schneizel's personal aid. He sent me to personally express his warm wishes and condolences. He wants to assure you that the matter will be thoroughly investigated."

"Is the assailant in custody?"

"No, he was shot dead by security." How convenient.

"Then I don't see what more you have to investigate." Lelouch answered, surprising both the man and himself with the sharpness of his tone.

"I see, but we'll make the best of our endeavor nonetheless. In the meantime, as this is a delicate matter, the Chancellor wishes to counsel you to remain below the radar."

"The public doesn't know about the assassination?"

"No. Nothing good would come from it. The public's focus is on our successes in Europe and it was felt that's where it should stay," Kanon explained.

"So the campaign was successful."

"Beyond anyone's expectation. The mass KMF airdrops on Christmas Eve took the enemy by complete surprise. Your sister led the attack that seized control of the Italian capital in two days," Kanon added with an expression of pride.

Not long after that, the Italian government, long a frustrated and embittered junior state within the pan-European entity, left the EU and sued for peace. Aside from dealing a crushing moral defeat to the Europeans, this act effectively trapped elements of the three allied European armies that were in Italy. By all accounts, Prince Schneizel skillfully and effectively leveraged these units and their precarious fates to bargain for a favorable general resolution to armed conflict with the European Universe.

Victory in Europe before New Years! Juliet predication had been correct.

"If I may speak frankly, your sister was extraordinary in particular. She nearly refused to participate in the operation at first, but ultimately performed above and beyond, despite being worried to death about you."

By chance, the flat screen on the far wall was showing the festive celebration from a few days earlier when Princess Nunnally was given a triumph through Pendragon. Emperor Charles, himself, bestowed the title of 1st Viscountess of Rome upon his young daughter in honor of her role in the stunning Britannian victory.

"You should be proud of her, Your Highness," Kanon noted.

Lelouch watched the radiant young girl, waving and throwing kisses at euphoric well wishers, thinking how far she had come.

"I am, Kanon. I really am."

XXXXXXXX

Nunnally arrived a little past Midnight.

Riding atop a silver Bentley convertible, the newly titled Viscountess of Rome blazed through nighttime Cairo, alternating between flourishing her imperial passport and crashing through checkpoints, to reach Giza. Leaving her dazed driver and befuddled hospital attendants behind, she burst through the double metal doors of the special ward reserved for Britannia's distinguished.

"Lelouch!"

"Nunnally? What are you-" was all the prince managed before he was tacked.

For the second time since waking up, the Eleventh Prince was besieged with kisses that he didn't ask for, but had no reason to deny.

"I nearly lost you," Nunnally cried, with shaking arms and eyes welling with emotions.

"I know."

The dark-haired prince kissed her, first on the forehead and then her lips, treasuring the sensation of his flesh and blood without a hint of hesitance. Nunnally sighed with contentment, allowing herself to be drawn into her brother's arms, allowing herself to believe that everything would be all right.

Lelouch knew differently though. Something definitely wasn't right about Juliet's assassination. The convenient setup, the dead trail, the cover up that was oh so reminiscent of another royal assassination years ago.

It would've been easy, tempting even to cast suspicion on the same people, the Blue Wings ideologues that dominated the House of Lords. All those legacy nobles and oligarchs of the imperial court would've had plenty of reasons to eliminate a thorn in their sides. Except there was one problem.

As Lelouch fell asleep in a comforting embrace, he reminded himself that Princess Juliet was ultimately shot and murdered by her own knight, a Honorary Britannian, who she had handpicked herself.

XXXXXXXX

**AN:** Did very minimal historical research courtesy of wikipedia. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't keep a historical artifact at the Louvre, but I'm using that as a place holder until someone tell me what would be a more appropriate location.

Nunnally's title, 1st Viscountess of Rome, is roughly analogous and mirror to the 1st Viscount of Alamein title, which was awarded to Field Marshal Montgomery after his crucial victory at el Alamein over Rommel's Afrika Korps during WWII.

The fans have spoken and I've listened… to a degree. I was going to leave Euphemia in the background until I've advanced Lelouch and Nunnally's plotline more, but I decided to up her presence. And just to get one issue out of the way: I am NOT a Suzaku – Euphemia fan!


	4. Welcome to Area 11

**AN: **Was bored so here's a neat chess exercise. How do you give mate to the enemy king by moving your king? How do you give mate using a piece you never moved? And how do you do both in a single move?

XXXXXXXXXX

**Chapter 4: Welcome to Area 11**

_Even with the honor and dignities on the line, the game had began quietly enough. White started off with d4, the solid Queen's Pawn Opening, a small surprise to those who had expected e4 from the normally energetic and aggressive princeling. The King's Pawn was the preferred opening of choice for those interested in wild, swashbuckling games after all. Careless commentators quickly dismissed Lelouch's winning chances, pointing out his lack of chess wisdom. If only they knew._

_Straying from theory, white rapidly built up a promising position and had his minor pieces well posted to assault the kingside by move nine. Showing his "youth and impatience," according to one observer, Lelouch struck on the tenth move with 10. Qh5 threatening Nxf6 with check followed by the crushing Qxh7. Obvious. Black responded with the equally obvious 10... Qe7, indirectly defending h7. Was his attack over before it had even begun? Had White emptied his quiver? _

_After a ten minute think, Lelouch turned to his opponent and asked if he would like to resign. When the stunned gentleman asked why? He answered plainly that he found a forced mate in eight._

_11. Qxh7+! _

_Everyone, including his opponent, thought he had lost his mind. Black happily accepted the "free" queen with 11... Kxh7, not the least of which was because it was forced. 12. Nxf6+, Kh6. Black carefully avoided the terrible Kh8, which would lead to Ng6 mate. But the checks kept coming and with each passing move, the black king was forced inexplicably up the board. The crowd's initial bemusement turned to befuddlement to disbelief and finally to exuberance as even they finally realized what White had unleashed. It was, as Lelouch had boasted, a forced mate in eight._

_16. Be2+, Kg2 17. Rh2+, Kg1 and White delivered mate with the picturesque 18. Kd2#._

_Lelouch the wunderkind had scored a brilliant masterpiece, one to remember for the ages. A reporter playfully quipped afterwards, "Against His Royal Highness, the Black king castled kingside on White's side of the board, and was dismayed to find it didn't offer quite the same level of protection."_

"Lady Euphemia? Are you in here?"

"I'm here, Master Staunton."

The elderly gent smiled at the paused clip of the youthful prince, his face aglow in the aftermath of his historic victory.

"Looking at His Royal Highness's past games instead of studying again?" he asked half in chastisement, but also half in pride. After all, Lelouch was once his student in academics and chess. In retrospect, that was probably why the Third Princess sought him out.

"I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright. This game is a favorite with my other students as well." There was scarcely a Britannian youth, chess fan or not, who hadn't at least heard of the game.

The princess gave a long sigh as the show ended with the chess aficionado crowd, nobles and commoners alike, cheering the young prince.

"I don't think I'll ever understand how he does it. How does he do that?" Even as a neophyte, she recognized finding a mate in eight as being unusual.

"Lady Euphemia, I can safely say that there's scarcely a soul in the entire imperial domain who is a match for Prince Lelouch. It is good and sufficient that we learn from his examples." The elderly teacher paused momentarily to collect his thoughts. Here was a wonderful opportunity to inspire and motivate the normally lethargic princess. "However, I'm certain His Royal Highness realized the strength of his attack even before the queen sacrifice."

The disbelieving expression on the Third Princess's face told Staunton that some convincing was in order. He rewound the game back to move ten, just before the famous sac.

"Look at Master Lelouch's pieces. His knights are well posted in the center; his bishops are aiming at the kingside; his queen has open access to the kingside and Black is completely passive. In short, His Royal Highness had a positional advantage, so naturally he attacked. In chess, winning tactics flow from the superior position just as victory on the battlefield is more easily achieved through superior strategy. Of course, Prince Lelouch also knew when it was proper to attack and when discretion was the better part of valor."

Euphemia held a thoughtful expression. Now it made sense why the game was so popular amongst youthful royalties and nobles in a culture such as Britannia's. Did it not spark the creative mind and teach the killing instinct even in the absence of war? The implication was more than a little disconcerting considering Lelouch's love for the game.

"Thank you, Master Staunton. I look forward to our next lesson."

No matter. Euphemia was determined to be a part of her brother's life. It was why she took secret chess lessons in order to share in his interest. She planned to reveal it at an opportune moment, preferably after Nunnally left for the front. That would give her a freer hand to win Lelouch over.

The Third Princess felt a little bad about swooping in like a vulture behind her half-sister's back like that, but like Cornelia once said, "All's fair in love and war."

XXXXXXXXXX

"I think that's all."

Lelouch stated with finality as he finished packing his personal belongings, a painstaking endeavor considering his encumbrance, but he didn't want his servants to handle the more sensitive items, not even Alfred.

"Where are you going, brother?"

The prince spun around and blinked stupidly at his guest, wondering how long she has been standing in the darkened corner of the room.

"I took stealth and infiltration lessons during boot camp," Nunnally answered with a soft smile.

He didn't know that.

"I'm leaving the capital, Nunnally, at least for the time being."

The younger girl's eyes darkened.

"If this is about what Duke Mustow said-"

"It's not. It's just... I tried to arrange a meeting with Senator Cornwell a while ago."

Silvius Cornwell was one of the longest serving members of the commoner lower house, a skilled veteran politician, who has withered countless challenges and a long time supporter of the late Princess Juliet and her progressive causes.

Nunnally asked, "And he refused to see you?"

"He's died."

That gave the younger girl pause.

"Suffered a heart attack apparently. They haven't released this information to the public yet, but I know some people are very concerned."

"You think the Blue Wings is involved?"

"I don't know they aren't involved."

They left the conversation there. It was of tremendous irony that Nunnally became the sibling who was more sympathetic to the group that best represented Britiannia's ideals. For his part, Lelouch had been stunned by the revelation and at the number of Nunnally's friends who either belonged to the group or supported it. Her best friend and subordinate, Marika was an especially ardent devotee of Blue Wing causes.

Turning away, the handicapped prince hefted his bags to one side of the room, an impressive feat. "Nunnally, I have nothing to do here. Most of my contacts in the capital are going quiet and I don't know how long and I'm not exactly a favorite of the court. Plus, you no longer need me around."

"That's not true!" The girl insisted, a hurt expression crossing her face.

Sighing, Lelouch backtracked, "I meant I can't do anything for you. I made some very unpopular statements. It's why I declined to attend the celebratory feasts. And I don't want to be a burden."

"You're _not _a burden," the girl insisted forcefully. She quickly walked up to her wheelchair bound brother and wrapped her arms around him. "You've taken care of me for so long. Why can't you let me do the same now?"

They both knew why. Lelouch was far too prideful to lie around doing nothing while living off of the charity of others.

"Where and when?" Nunnally asked at last, conceding defeat.

"Area 11. Clovis invited me for a visit a while ago. I figured now is a good time to finally take him up on that offer."

"You sure he isn't just looking for someone to do his job? His administration had the worst performance review in the last quarterly even though his domain contained a very advanced and educated indigenous population."

Since leaving the nest, Nunnally has come to better understand how the Empire and the world worked. Clovis might be one of her favorite siblings, and she'd never forget his generosity and kindness, but that didn't mitigate his atrocious leadership record.

"Perhaps, but it might be good practice for me. My flight's in five hours."

"I won't be able to see you off. I've to fly to Arlington in thirty minutes," Nunnally muttered with a frown before elaborating, "Funeral service for one of my company commanders. He's being posthumously awarded the Silver Cross and Medal of Valor by the Army Chief of Staff."

Nunnally spoke only superficially about her command, but Lelouch managed to pierce together that the ambitious operation had taken a significant toll on the participating troops. Nunnally's regiment and the assaulting 501st of imperial fame were rumored to have suffered close to forty percent casualty. Naturally, this information was kept off the airwaves.

"Ok, don't worry about it. Euphie will still be there to see me off."

Lelouch turned away so as to hide his disappointment. Since Nunnally's homecoming, the two siblings have spent preciously little time together, what with her having to attend multiple functions everyday and the media constantly hounding for her attention. As a result, he missed seeing his sister's frozen expression.

"Euphie knew you were leaving?"

"Yes. She actually suggested I go. She mentioned she'd tell you." Lelouch looked back, perplexed. "Actually, I was wondering why you didn't call."

Nunnally schooled her features. "Hmm, I guess she must have forgotten. But in the future, please let me know directly. Euphemia shouldn't have to do your errands for you," she chided lightly. If Lelouch detected the subtle edge, he didn't speak of it.

"Brother Clovis insists Area 11 is safe, but I'm not so sure. Please, be careful."

Without warning, Nunnally closed the gap and mashed her lips against her brother's. None of the kisses, even the intimate ones, they had shared in the past prepared Lelouch for this. He offered no reaction, much less resistance when her tongue dragged his into a heated duet.

Some minutes later, the siblings broke apart with Lelouch wondering what the hell happened.

"You're a very good kisser, brother."

The Eleventh Prince gave her a look. Why?

"I wanted to let you know I love you. And I've always wanted to try that with you. I'm afraid I need to leave right now or my Chief of Staff will come looking for me."

Lelouch barely managed an "I love you too," before Nunnally bounced out the door. As she left however, he couldn't shake the thought that his sister seemed way too practiced for their French kiss to have been her first.

XXXXXXXXXX

"What's on your mind now, Lulu?"

Euphemia giggled at the dark look her question evoked. The two royalties stood next to the rampart to a Gulfstream XT450, a line of luxury private jets manufactured exclusively for the upper crust of Britannian society. Providing the latest comforts and amenities, the wide cabin jet also boasted state of the art armor plating and communications hardware. Its makers boasted that the Imperial High Command could conduct an intercontinental campaign while lounging in its posturepedic seats.

"Nunnally was behaving strangely. I'm worried about her."

Pause.

"I'm sure she'll be fine. She's a big girl now."

"That's true." Though the same could be said of Euphemia. Lelouch looked at his half-sibling, who looked radiant and gorgeous in a frilly, but elegant white and yellow dress. She has definitely grown in many areas, and not just because Lelouch's point of view was stunted by his handicap.

The Third Princess grinned when she caught him eyeing her chest. Lelouch turned away with a flushed face.

"What did Nunnally do? I thought you'd be happy she's home."

"I am. It's just that she's changed so much."

Euphemia moved closer, hoping to capitalize on the situation to steal a kiss, and that was when she noticed; the faint, but distinct subtle blush around Lelouch's mouth. The Third Princess instantly recognized what it was. Her mouth tightened.

_That little sneak! She got to him first!_

That made her feel a little less bad about her plans. Clearly, Nunnally was no longer a hapless, naive little girl, but Euphie could hardly blame her for doing what she wanted to do herself. The pink haired princess quickly recovered and gave Lelouch a chaste kiss on both cheeks instead. There was little point in copying Nunnally's actions at this point. The younger girl might have won the battle, but the war was far from over.

"Once you are settled, I'll try and drop by to see you, ok, Lelouch?"

"Yes, I'd like that," the boy agreed enthusiastically.

Euphemia smiled. _Take that. _Last she checked, Nunnally's unit was stationed somewhere in the Mediterranean. Now if there was some way to convince Sister Cornelia to keep it stationed there indefinitely...

XXXXXXXXXX

"Good afternoon, Your Highness, I'm Major Eric Manheim and I'll be your pilot for this trip. I want to inform you that we'll be making a brief stop at California Base. The 23rd Highlander Air Group will meet and escort us to Area 11. I apologize for any delay this change may cause."

Lelouch was surprised. He had been told only minimal escort would be available for his trip.

"Why the change?"

"There was a request from higher up to increase your security detail."

Lelouch realized the only person who knew his exact departure time and date and was in a position to influence it was Nunnally. And it certainly was a very Nunnally-like action. A part of him was unhappy. Little sisters weren't supposed to look after their crippled older brother. The world wasn't supposed to work like that! So he was prideful. No one ever accused him of being humble. But at the same time, he was relieved. There was something comforting about knowing that Nunnally still looked out for her big brother.

Of course, the bigger question was how she did it on such short notice. Did she call up Cornelia or Schneizel? Possibly or did she act on her own authority? If so, then Lelouch had to wonder how much influence his little sister wielded.

"Thank you, major. Carry on."

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. Welcome to the Silver Starlight," greeted the stewardess, a pretty blonde who wore a picturesque smile. "We hope you'll enjoy your trip with us."

"I'm sure I will."

Looking outside, Lelouch waved goodbye to Euphemia and to his home.

XXXXXXXXXX

The trip across the Pacific was long, but was by no means unpleasant. Lelouch found it surprisingly easy to drift off after a couple of glasses of expertly blended margaritas and sherries. The Bentley quality expanded leather seat also didn't hurt. Before he knew it, the waitress was gently shaking him awake.

"Your Highness, we've arrived at Winslow New Tokyo Airport."

"Oh, ok, thank you."

"My pleasure, sir. It was good to have you with us. Your military escort is waiting outside.

Lelouch blinked. Military escort?

Some minutes later when the young prince stepped outside, he gaped at the spectacle. Arrayed in neat rows was an entire battalion of Imperial Royal Guards, undoubtedly the Viceroy's personal troops.

"Lelouch! My favorite brother!" Clovis la Britannia shouted with joy, blinding him with his impeccable bleached white teeth. "You didn't think I'd let you sneak you into my own backyard without a proper welcome, did you?"

The wheelchair bound prince eyed his brother wearily. Clovis always was one for theatrics, even more so than Schneizel.

"I also took the liberty of inviting an old friend of yours."

Lelouch followed Clovis's gesture and turned to the fashionably dressed blonde by his side.

"Milly?"

Indeed, standing tall and prim by the 3rd Prince's side was the heiress of the Ashford fortune. So the rumors were true. The Ashford clan managed to claw its way from the abyss. Good for them.

"Hi, Lulu. I'm so happy to see you again."

Clovis grinned broadly like a sly fox. "Why don't we go inside and talk. It's getting chilly outside."

XXXXXXXXXX

**AN:** Not a very original idea for getting Lelouch to Area 11, I know, but I decided to stop trying to force it. At least he gets a kiss from both sisters this chapter! Lucky guy! I took the suggestions of some readers and added viewpoints from the girls. I have to say I enjoyed writing them so keep those suggestions coming.

The chess game I used this time was the famous 1912 Edward Lasker vs. George Alan Thomas match. Very pretty mate, wouldn't you agree? The full game is given below.

Event: London, 1912

White: Edward Lasker

Black: George Alan Thomas

1. d4 e6 2. Nf3 f5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. Bxf6 Bxf6 6. e4 fxe4 7. Nxe4 b6 8. Ne5 O-O 9. Bd3 Bb7 10. Qh5 Qe7 11. Qxh7+ Kxh7 12. Nxf6+ Kh6 13. Neg4+ Kg5 14. h4+ Kf4 15. g3+ Kf3 16. Be2+ Kg2 17. Rh2+ Kg1 18. Kd2# 1-0

I alluded to a bit about the dichotomy between wild, sharp chess, usually associated with tactics and slower positional chess. The first is immediate, where as the second is long term. The former is fun to watch, while the latter is where "real" chess takes place. The quote, "tactics flow from a superior position" is from Bobby Fischer. Ironically - but not surprisingly - he is most known for his beautiful combinations and tactical victories, even though he is usually categorized as an "aggressive" positional player.

So I'll really try to empathize this second, long term view in Lelouch even if it ends up being more "boring" and "dry" than canon. The first thing is always to have a good strategy. Actually winning is the easy part.


	5. Meeting the Locals

**AN: **Missed Christmas by a hair, so I'll just say Happy New Years!

**Chapter 5: Meeting the Locals**

_The wirily noble was in trouble and he knew it, as indicated by the prodigious quantity of sweat trickling down from his forehead. A proud and boisterous man, Ruben K. Ashford thought of himself as the strongest chess player in the royal court, a credible opinion that was greatly substantiated after claiming Prince Schneizel's scalp. But commanding the Black side against his current opponent, Ruben felt utterly helpless, small and helpless._

_Even so, he was rated at master strength and tried to make the most of his position. His opponent could still blunder. He was so very young, after all._

_27... Ng4_

_Ruben's objective was to blunt his opponent's attack by removing one of his dangerous bishops. To his great surprise, White allows this to happen without any fuss. _

_28. Rxa4, Bxc3_  
_29. bxc3, Rxc3_

_Success! The wizened warrior smiled inwardly. Surely, White has nothing now. He figured the youth would belatedly realize his mistake and overreach, grasping for phantom attacks, while allowing him to slowly turn the tide of battle._

_30. Rxf7_

_Ruben was unimpressed. With nary a thought, he avoided playing the obvious and losing move, Rxf7, which would have allowed White to finish in style with 31. Ra8+ followed by mate in two._

_30... Rc1+_

_Instead, Black played this zwischenzug, an intermediate move, that checks the White king and makes mate threats of his own against the vulnerable royalty stuck in the corner._

_Your move, his eyes seemed to say, as if daring his opponent to play 31. Rf1+, a neat move that would allow white to block check and give discovery check at the same time. But after 31... Kh8, White would be in trouble since it was illegal for him to play Rxf8#._

_Ruben's opponent sat thinking deeply under a mop of black hair. Suddenly he looked up and _  
_before looking up. With gleaming eyes and a chilling smile, he softly said "I win" and played the winning move._

_31. Qf1!_

_Stunning, crushing and completely winning. _

_With this move, White offered up his strongest piece on a silver platter, but Black dared not take. Ruben spent the rest of his time, almost an hour long, trying to find a reasonable continuation to no avail. With a shake of his head, he toppled the Black king with a trembling finger._

_"Congratulations, Prince Lelouch. That was a masterfully played game."_

_Ruben introduced his granddaughter, the apple of his eyes to the Seventeenth Prince the day after. After their first play date, the precocious prince accused the older gentleman of exacting cruel and unusual retribution for his earlier defeat. _

_If Ruben Ashford wasn't fond of Marianne's eldest child already, he would've after that._

XXXXXXXXXX

"Lelouch! Get in here."

Ruben K. Ashford always was a big man, and made a fitting image as the consummate nobleman, talented and dedicated in the service of the royal family. Even after his family's fall from grace, his physical stature never diminished, having always carried himself with the poise and dignity as the father of the Knightmare Frame revolution.

"My lord. Look at you! Did you grow taller?"

"Yes, grandfather. I'm now a dashing four foot four," Lelouch quipped, seated upon his wheelchair.

Ruben burst into uproarious laughter. He lifted the small (compared to him) princeling up and gave him a warm bear hug. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive and well, no idea. How's Nunnally?"

"Good, to my surprise. She's taking to life as a soldier like duck to water. She has been recently promoted, again."

"She's her mother's daughter. That's genetics I suppose. I daresay you might've made for a fine pilot yourself, Lelouch."

"I doubt it," the paraplegic royalty quickly dismissed the notion. "I'm not the soldering type. Don't have the temperament."

Ruben was not to be deterred. "But you do have the temperament and intellect of a commander. I still remember the drubbing you gave me in chess years ago. I hear the EU dogs finally made you a Grandmaster. About time, I say."

For better or worse, the Ashford elder, like all aristocrats, could be quite set in his ways. If he felt you to be an inferior specimen, there was little you could do to alter his opinion. Likewise for the opposite as in this case with Lelouch.

"However, the battle over the board still takes second place to the battle on the field."

"Which is a damn shame. The world would be a better place if that wasn't the case, don't you think?"

Lelouch didn't know what to think about that, much less say.

"Ah, forget. Never mind the ramblings of an old man. I just wanted to see you with my own eyes. I can't tell you how sorry I am for all of us for not being there for you and Nunnally. Empress Marianne was like a daughter to me."

Lelouch nodded, graciously accepting the old man's apology. Of course, he wasn't the Marianne progeny who laid abandonment blame on the Ashfords.

"Ruben, let me be blunt, why did you ask to see me?" Lelouch learned long ago not to play games - unless it was chess - with the elderly man.

"What? An old man can't simply want to see his godson after so many years apart?" Ruben feigned innocence.

"No, of course not, but why insist on meeting me before I had a chance to spend even a full day with my brother, the Viceroy of Area 11 and apparently your greatest patron?"

The gig was up and both knew it.

"You always were tremendously perceptive, Lelouch. I assume you're aware of the internal assessments performed on the various domains and Area administratrions?"

"Not a ringing endorsement for my brother," Lelouch agreed, but unwilling make any truly disparaging remarks. It was quite obvious what had happened. Exiled under a cloud of ignominy and humiliation, Ruben Ashford fought back hard to get into good standing with the local government in Area 11. He and his family rose to stand at the Viceroy's right hand side only to realize after what an empty shirt he was. "So you belatedly realized you hitched your horse to the wrong wagon. I could have told you that if you had called."

"Yes, I know you would have. I thought of that, but alas in my old age, I lack the courage to brave your sister's wraith. She still _loath _me, doesn't she? For abandoning you two in Pendragon?"

Hard to believe, but Nunnally was capable of loathing and to say that Nunnally "loathed" the Ashfords was to put it charitably. In her mind, that family represented the very worst of Britannia's courtly opportunism and was far worse than any of the blue blood ilk that Lelouch viewed with such strong disdain.

"Your family name doesn't often come up in our conversations, but I suspect that's the case."

"So now you want to... correct that mistake and hitch onto me?"

No one ever accused Lelouch of being humble, even after the incident. Where most elderly heads of noble households would've raged about his presumptuousness, Ruben only smiled.

"We both know the answer to that question, Your Highness."

Ruben K. Ashford, previously one of the most powerful nobles in Britannia, abandoning the standard of the Third Prince of Britannia, who was already the chief executive of a polity with an hundred million people, and supporting a crippled, unfavored prince with no recognized authority of his own instead. Complete and utter madness, most would say, Lelouch included.

"I don't expect a decision immediately. In fact, I'd prefer it if you could pretend this conversation never happened. I don't wish or intend to make any changes in my family's association with the Viceroy. I just felt..." Here, the old man paused and looked deeply in Lelouch's eyes. "I wanted to let you know where I stand. I wanted our dealings to be upfront and forthright from the very beginning, Lelouch."

Trust. So it came down to trust. Ruben wanted Lelouch's trust knowing it was impossible to win Nunnally's. So he opened up about a deep, dark, and potentially very damaging secret. Clovis might be a political lightweight, but he was still the Third Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire. If word of his closest ally and Lelouch's collusion escaped, the Viceroy would be compelled to take swift retribution against the perpetrators to protect himself.

"I understand. Thank you for sharing your thoughts."

Lelouch thrust out his hand, which Ruben took with a smile.

The Ashfords in general, and Ruben in particular, were nothing if not consummate Britannian nobles. They were natural politicians, blessed with gifted minds, and not merely synoptic ladder-climbing bureaucrats. They could play the game with the best of them. Best of all, they held some margin of empathy for Lelouch through his mother. So why wouldn't he seek to work with them when given the opportunity? Nunnally and her bias be damned.

"Good luck. If the Viceroy lets you get away, come around for dinner. I know my Milly is dying to have you all to herself for once," Ruben laughed joyously, relishing the look of distaste on the youngster's face. Ah, how he missed being young.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clovis did allow Lelouch to steal away, though not for lack of trying on his part. After an overly elaborate military parade down Main Street, the younger Prince somehow managed to beggar off while the Viceroy was swarmed with reporters and fans. And naturally, Milly was right there, waiting to snatch him away.

Dressed in a slinky dark blue cocktail and perfectly coiffed, Milly Ashford looked more like an arm candy dangling from some hotshot nobleman than a high school teen.

"I thought we were going to have dinner with your family?"

Lelouch asked, perplexed as Milly unloaded a veritable feast over his lap.

"Really? You thought I rescued you from one party with stuffy old geezers just to take you to another of the same sort?" Milly grinned, her sharp blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh don't worry, you've plenty of opportunities for those. I can't believe you didn't get enough of those at the capital."

"That wasn't what I mean."

"Relax, I already cleared it with grandpa. He thought you might enjoy a quiet dinner away with a beautiful girl away from the limelights," Milly dimpled cutely.

Lelouch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Such a Milly-like behavior. But that was how he found himself dinning on soba in a warm broth, plates of steaming white rice, mixed veggies with gyuudon and katsudon meat toppings, piled high with all sorts of seasonings and spices. It wasn't royal cuisine, but it was very good and distinctively indigenous. The prince eyed one concoction with singular suspicion.

"What? It's takoyaki. Try it." Right. Octopus balls.

Against his better judgement, Lelouch tasted, chewed and swallowed. Salty, very spicy, but surprisingly good.

"Told you." Winking, the blonde girl dumped nearly an entire boat of the local delicacy into her mouth and swallowed. Not very lady-like at all, but Milly always did have atrocious table manners. Lelouch wondered if that might have played a role in Ruben allowing them this nighttime excursion.

"I'm guessing I'll be seeing you often?"

Milly nodded. "Granddaddy didn't tell you? I'll be your official liaison with the family and our subsidiaries as well as your guide to formal functions." AKA, arm fodder and escort. Lelouch knew well how those functions worked, having lived in Pendragon all his life.

He cast a sideway glance at the gluttonous girl. Nevertheless, he could do worse; much worse.

"I should blame you, you know," the blonde interjected.

"Oh?"

"Mhm-hmm. I could have just gone along with my family. Dress up nicely every now and then and marry some rich nobleman of my family's choosing, but no, I had to develop an independent streak." Milly's smile suggested she was anything but angry. "Not to say it hasn't been fun learning the family trade."

The family trade for the Ashfords, as with all other privileged families, was the world of business, politics and power. Like any grandparent, Ruben was indulgent, and like any grandchild, Milly took full advantage at the exclusive private academy named after the family. Using that as an excuse, the teen had successfully lobbied to have herself made the de facto and de jure Student Body President... for life. If the affair wasn't so silly and student governments actually had any relevance to governance, that would've been impressive.

"I know what you're thinking and you're wrong," Milly declared. Lelouch offered a try me expression. "Ashford Academy is attended by the kids of just about every notable in Area 11 and even a couple from abroad. Grandpa might be the official headmaster, but he hardly has any dealings with the school. Guess who often takes his place?"

"Your father?" Lelouch deadpenned. Milly lightly smacked his shoulder. Ruben's son and Milly's father, the official heir of the family name and fortune was not exactly a political or intellectual heavy weight and lacked any hint of personal ambition. And that was just fine as far as the family was concerned. The man was a wonderful son, father, and husband, deeply loving and deeply loved in return. It was no wonder Ruben placed so much faith and hope in his granddaughter.

"Haha, very funny, Lulu," the blonde girl then looked seriously at her childhood friend, "Look Lelouch, I know what is at stake, as does my family. We're not wasting your time and we're not going to feed you to the sharks."

Friendship in Britannian high society was a fickle thing, if it even existed at all. So what Milly was offering, on behalf of her family, was no small trinket. It had the potential to shape and define the Empire, and in turn the world.

"I'll need some time." That and a prayer. Lelouch knew there would be hell to pay when Nunnally finds out.

"Great. Now that that's out of the way, I want to show you something. I promise. You'll love it."

And that was how the pair passed rapidly through several military checkpoints, courtesy of Milly. The guards cast nary a glance at her very important guest, a fact which raised Lelouch's alarm.

"Is security always this lax in the Areas?"

"Not usually, or at least I hope not," Milly answered. "But with grandpa being the Viceroy's top advisor and the Ashfords being a major R&D group in Area 11, we have some understanding with the military."

The teenage girl easily guided her companion along dimly lit walkways and punched in passcodes to restricted areas with such deftness as to suggest deep familiarity before finally reaching a wide hanger space.

"What am I looking at?" Lelouch questioned, staring into the shadows.

"The next generation in technological advancements and military machinery, the Seventh Generation Knightmare Frame, XKM-Y2, also called the Lancelot. It's the centerpiece of Project Camelot, which is headed by the Britannian Engineering Corps, but funded heavily by the Ashford Globex Corps."

Now, Lelouch was impressed and didn't try to hide it. He suspected the Ashfords didn't just roll over after their fall from grace, but he never thought they could have rebounded so quickly. He had heard about Project Camelot, mostly in the forms of rumors and gossip, the sort of hush-hush snippets usually associated with deep, black ops projects. If those talk was to be believed, Project Camelot promised to revolutionize warfare, much in the same way the Ganymede KMF model did. How appropriate that the same player is involved in both projects.

"Want to take a look on the inside?" Milly offered, clearly relishing the feel of getting the best of her childhood friend for once.

"Sure, why not? You wouldn't happen to have a key and passcode, would you?"

The blonde grinned wickedly, flashing a black and white copy of the KMF master lock. "Now that you mentioned it."

With some effort, the duo made it to the cockpit.

"Not exactly roomy, but fairly comfortable," Lelouch assessed from the pilot seat.

"And rather romantic, don't you think?" Milly added, straddling on top of him. She slipped her arm around him to plug in the master key. The staring interface flashed blue in greeting.

_"Marching Ever Onward To Tomorrow"_

To tomorrow. Always onward, always forward looking. That's the Britannian way.

The young prince traced the inner skeleton of the mare, touching, sensing its latent power.

"If I'm reading this right; this mech is about the size of a standard Gloucester, packs at least twice its armament and is eons beyond in defensive capabilities. It features a fully functioning Blaze Luminous shield, really?"

"One of the bigger technological breakthroughs Earl Lloyd Asplund made I believe. So, what do you think?" Milly queried.

"Amazing. I thought half of these technologies were still in early development stages," answered Lelouch honestly. It was a beautiful piece of hardware, not to mention refined and elegant, maybe even too elegant.

"It's great, but did it have to be so... pink?"

"What, you don't think pink is a good color?" Milly asked with a leer.

"I think pink is an atrocious color," Lelouch answered firmly. Never a popular color with the boys, this particular shade of crimson earned the Eleventh Prince's eternal ire after what Milly and his sisters had inflicted on him.

"Aw, buy you looked so pretty in pink! I think even your sisters were jealous," she teased.

The young looked pained when he answered, "I had really hoped you wouldn't remember that."

"Ah, definitely too much wishful thinking on your part."

Lelouch felt a shiver travel down his spine. He couldn't imagine pink being the default coloring scheme and he wouldn't put it past Milly to have abused her position to push for such a non-consequential act just to be able to tease him sometime down the line.

That was a little scary; that the formally blunt and impulsive blonde could be capable of such calculated deviousness.

Lelouch was prepared to offer a rejoinder when several unexpected personnel burst into the hanger space.

"That's not the cleaning crew, is it?"

"No, they don't come in the middle of the night," Milly answered with a frown. "They don't look like authorized personnel." They weren't. "Oh god, they're stealing the equipment! They must be local rebels."

"Dammit, I thought you said security wasn't lax."

Realizing it was only a matter of time before they're found, Lelouch moved quickly to release all the control locks.

"No wait!" Milly's warning came late as the Lancelot jerked violently out of its holding gate.

"We haven't worked out pilot compatibility issues. The unit's not battle ready yet."

"Now you tell me," Lelouch grunted as small arms fire peppered them.

"I alerted command. Maybe we can sit tight until help arrives," Milly suggested.

Not likely, Lelouch thought when he eyed several of the terrorists trying to train armor-piercing rockets at them.

"No time! Take the handle to keep us steady. I'm going to rewrite the OS and control pathways to the keyboard."

Milly obeyed, but was feeling less than confident. She might not understand the technical jargon the scientists spoke in, but she knew it was very complicated, and Lelouch proposed to fix up hard coded data in seconds? But here, she had forgotten that he was a true genius of the highest order, not the single shot local phenoms she was accostumed to.

Lelouch's hands flew across the keyboard and the Lancelot escaped the blast radius in the last possible moment. Crisscrossing in between the intruders to encourage friendly fire, he fired accurate Slash Harkens, which easily ripped the armor-less attackers to sheds.

Within minutes, the intruders were broken and fled in disorder, right into the waiting ambush of the waiting military. The few survivors were quickly rounded up and the regulars then trained their weapons on the Lancelot.

"This is the Britannian military. Surrender or be destroyed!"

"Wait! Don't shoot. This is Milly Ashford, special member tag GLX-65237. I've authorized access and have a special guest with me. We'll come out."

When the two teens finally descended, after some work procuring a wheelchair for Lelouch, a stern, serious looking officer approached them.

"Lady Ashford, I'm glad to see that you're alright, but I'm afraid I must lodge a protest with the Viceroy's office."

Milly winced. That would not go down well with grandfather, but there was nothing she could do.

"Actually, officer..." Lelouch interrupted, making a show of searching for the officer's insignia.

"Major Villetta Nu of the 23rd Platoon," the woman stated crisply.

"Major, that's my fault," Lelouch stated. Milly whipped her head at him. "I made my friend show me the unit. My name is Lelouch vi Britannia, the Eleventh Imperial Prince."

The declaration stunned the military personnel. The soldiers checked their weapons and Major Nu and her officers dropped to their knees.

"Your Highness! A thousand apologies! We... I didn't know."

"At ease. You were just doing your job," Lelouch commented appreciatively. He was genuinly grateful that at least some parts of the military wasn't slacking off. He turned to her. "However, I'd be grateful if you and your men could keep our presence off the record. I don't want to make trouble for Ms. Ashford."

The dark-skinned Britannia frowned, realizing whatever her decision she risked offending the wrong person. But she nodded in consent at the end.

"Thank you, major. I'm very grateful for your understanding. I'll be sure to remember the assistance you rendered in the future," Lelouch said very sincerely.

Milly watched her childhood friend masterfully work the experienced soldier over, biting her tongue at times to keep quiet. Villeta Nu was literally preening herself before Lelouch. She stood taller and straighter and seemed to hang on to every one of his word.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Lelouch, you stud! Flirting with an older woman while you've already got a pretty girl beside you," Milly cried in mock anger once they were safely seated in the back of a limousine taking them back home.

"I was just trying to build myself a bridge. If I'm going to be able to do anything around here, it'd helpful to have contacts in the military."

"Ah-uh, sure. Wouldn't it be even better if you had a mistress in the military then?" Milly continued in a flippant manner.

Lelouch paused. While tempted to dismiss the remark, there was something about the tone in her voice, something that was oddly reminiscent of Nunnally and Euphemia when they felt scorned.

Was Milly jealous?

"I'm surprised you know how to handle a knightmare?"

"I'm the son of Marianne the Flash and the brother of Marianne Mark II. You didn't think that was my first time, did you?"

"No, of course not. I'm sure you're very _experienced_, Lelouch."

The prince groaned, thinking Milly was just being Milly, but then he realized the blonde was hold his arm in an usually tight grip with both of her hands, and they were shaking badly. Lelouch's annoyance faded, replaced with concern. The girl was being a pain in the butt to mask her terror. Maybe his close encounter with death years ago immunized him, but this was undoubtedly her first brush with real danger. the prince instinctively wrapped an arm around his friend and pulled her close, much as he had done to a frightened Nunnally in the middle of a thunderstorm a long time ago.

Milly gradually calmed down. And leaned against Lelouch's comforting shoulders, the exhausted girl fell into a peaceful slumber.

XXXXXXXXXX

**AN:** I'm going for a record. Get a different girl or a different combination of girls to sleep with Lelouch in each chapter. We'll see how long I last. Not sure how readers will take my treatment of Milly. I know I was deeply, deeply disappointed by Milly and her family. So much wasted potential.

I finally used a Bobby Fischer chess game. I thought I already did one, but apparently not. I eschewed the more popularized games involving the Byrne brothers, like the "Game of the Century," alluded to in Cal reflector's story and used another game. As usual, you can find the full game at chessgames(dot)com or via google.

Event: US Championship, 1957  
White: Robert James Fischer  
Black: James T. Sherwin  
1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 cxd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 5. Nc3 a6 6. Bc4 e6 7. O-O b5 8. Bb3 b4 9. Nb1 Bd7 10. Be3 Nc6 11. f3 Be7 12. c3 bxc3 13. Nxc6 Bxc6 14. Nxc3 O-O 15. Rc1 Qb8 16. Nd5 exd5 17. Rxc6 dxe4 18. fxe4 Qb5 19. Rb6 Qe5 20. Bd4 Qg5 21. Qf3 Nd7 22. Rb7 Ne5 23. Qe2 Bf6 24. Kh1 a5 25. Bd5 Rac8 26. Bc3 a4 27. Ra7 Ng4 28. Rxa4 Bxc3 29. bxc3 Rxc3 30. Rxf7 Rc1+ 31. Qf1 h5 32. Qxc1 Qh4 33. Rxf8+ Kh7 34. h3 Qg3 35. hxg4 h4 36. Be6 1-0

31. Qf1 is the sort of chess move you can best appreciate when you are a mid level player. A complete novice wouldn't understand and a master would find it too easily. But if you're in between those extremes then it's a very beautiful move, almost like art. Can you see why White wins (or why Black might as well resign) after this move?


	6. Prince on the Prowl

**AN:** League of Legends (check profile for link) hasn't drained my soul. I only play a few games a week. To be honest, I didn't realize how bad I'm at video games now or how atrocious the gaming community can be. I'm actually mostly busy with work and social obligations.

**Chapter 6: Prince on the Prowl**

Lelouch sat calmly, sipping morning coffee and biting into toasted and buttered English muffins, as he read the damning reports on his brother's reign of Area 11. It was even worse than what he was led to believe. Area Productivity and Output figures and other economic indicators, which bottomed out since the invasion, showed no sign of recovery. Entire swaths of the industrial heartland remained ghettoized with millions earmarked for its development siphoned off to god knows where. And the judiciary system and rule of law were arbitrary and inconsistent even by Britannian standards, which allowed for unequal treatments of its subjects.

The young prince blew a raspberry at the document in front of him. And for the love of all that's good, could someone explain to him how people unfit to run a small town postage office became state administrators for a territory encompassing over a hundred million souls?

"The Viceroy, Your Highness."

Never mind. He knew why.

"Thank you, Alfred. Patch him through."

Lelouch meant to unload on his brother, only to find his concerns waved aside.

"It's not so bad, I assure you. The Pendragon report exaggerates and Area 11 has always been like this. The numbers are a lazy, uncooperative people, regardless of what we do."

Stunned by the Viceroy's blasé attitude, Lelouch allowed his brother to steer the rest of the conversation.

"Why don't you relax a bit, Lelouch? Get out and take a look around to see what I mean. There's a certain earl who's very interested in what you managed to do with his creation. He and his assistant want to meet you in person at your earliest convenience."

And then the Viceroy was gone, off to smooch with his adoring fans no doubt. In the end, it was probably better they didn't have a longer talk as it would've done little good. Having wormed their way into his good graces, it would take an act of God to remove the leeches masquerading as the Viceroy's senior officials.

Lelouch sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

"My, my, so tense? One would think you were the Viceroy."

The prince nearly jumped out of his wheelchair - if it were possible - as a pair of delicate hands kneaded his shoulder blades.

"Milly!"

"Mhm-hmm. Sorry, Lelouch. You looked so cute, lost in your own world."

Lelouch tried to retort, only to let out a groan of pain and pleasure as he felt her hands dig deep into his shoulder blades.

"You really are tense. Your body is all in knots. The Viceroy's right, you really should learn to relax," Milly gently chided. "Maybe you should take up Earl Asplund's offer to meet with him."

"Might as well. Beats looking at these data. Alfred, please arrange for my transport," Lelouch called out. "I trust you won't be joining me?"

"No, not today. I've a school to run," Milly answered with a smile, never mind the fact that she was a student herself.

The prince gave his old friend a half amused smile, half curious look. "All right. I'll see you later."

Milly waited until she was sure Lelouch was gone before punching in some commands on a remote console. The picture of a peeved Nunnally popped up on screen.

"Your Highness, I apologize for the delay, but I'm afraid your brother left for the day already," Milly answered in a saccharine tone.

The young brunette frowned in displeasure. "Milly, this is the third time. I'm really wondering..." She began before trailing off.

"Sorry. I suppose Lelouch likes to keep himself active. If you want, I could take a message for him,"

"That's all right," Nunnally interrupted. "Send my brother my love and please continue to take good care of him."

"I will do that."

XXXXXXXXXX

"I bet you will," Nunnally muttered after the connection ended.

The perceptive girl was under no illusion what Milly was doing. It was gamesmanship by the blonde girl, a blatant attempt to separate and isolate Lelouch while she worked her wiles.

Nunnally had recognized years ago that Milly Ashford was every bit as in love with her brother as she and her half-sister was. When the extended Ashford clan fled Pendragon in the turmoil after mother's death, young Milly had tearfully begged for Lelouch to escape with her, and when that attempt failed, had begged to remain behind. Her brother had likely forgotten, much as he likely forgotten the heated argument she once had with Euphemia over who would become his bride. Lelouch, bless his gentle heart, might be a prodigal genius, but he could still be clueless at times.

The soldier princess forced away the image of her mortal enemy lounging around half naked in her brother's bed and donned her military uniform. Unfortunately, she couldn't sit around scheming of ways to get back at the airhead blonde. She had duties to perform.

"I really dislike that Ashford girl," Nunnally muttered for the umpteenth time when her chief of staff, knowing about her affection for her blood sibling, inquired about the seventeenth prince.

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness?"

"Nothing, Jeremiah."

Jeremiah Gottwald was a giant of man in more than one sense. Towering physically over his peers, Gottwald was a fierce and decorated soldier, who earned the Medal of Valor for his heroism during the brutal Desert Campaign of 2015 and lost his left eye while defending the Tigress of Benghazi from a deadly ambush. Yet for all his accomplishment, there was no mistaking who held final authority when he and his superior walked into a room. Such was Nunnally's reputation.

"Yes, Jeremiah? You look like you have something to say."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but I'm curious about your response to Earl Rosenkreuz's offer."

"I'm still thinking about it." Meaning she was going to ignore it, out of respect and deference to her brother, who distrusted blue bloods in general, and hated the Blue Wings in particular. He still suspected them as being responsible for their mother's death.

"Of course, but I'd be happy to facilitate a meeting."

Like many of Nunnally's talented subordinates, Gottwald was a nobleman and the Blue Wings was the hottest new club on the block. As a Margrave and a highly respected soldier, the built Britannian undoubtedly had his contacts within the privileged organization. The princess gave her chief of staff a calculating look.

"I apologize for my presumptuousness," Jeremiah backtracked, remembering belatedly the princess's past. "I merely thought this would be a good opportunity to further your highness's career. I'm told that the Earl and his associates have tremendous respect for your capacities. You're also revered by the younger officers," he explained enthusiastically.

Flattering, but not surprising. Despite her initial commitment to equality and fair treatment to nobles and commoners alike, Nunnally gradually found herself drifting toward the former. Now, her senior staff and circle of confidants, with the exception of Marika, were composed almost exclusively of nobles or the children of nobles. And it wasn't clear how long her best friend would last in this group.

Ideals are nice, but reality is reality.

The benefits of having friends in high places were significant. Her unit never suffered for want of supplies or replacement parts and was likely one of the few units to have never deployed below its authorized strength. Whatever Lelouch might think, Nunnally could not argue against the results.

"Ok, Jeremiah, I'll trust you on this one. I'll go and see what they want."

A broad grin spread across the Margrave's face.

"You won't be disappointed, Your Highness."

XXXXXXXXXX

Lelouch watched half in amusement, half in horrified fascination at the interactions between the chief developers of the Camelot Project. After the first five minutes, he concluded Earl Lloyd Asplund, the supposed head, was obviously missing some of his marbles.

"Ah, that's too bad you aren't suitable to being our main piece of equipment." Curious phrase for a pilot, but not inaccurate.

"Lloyd! That is not an appropriate way to address His Royal Highness! I do apologize for his behavior. Please forgive him," the young woman pleaded earnestly. Fortunately, the earl's assistant was more of sound mind. Cecile Croomy, a high flying, promising engineer, who had the misfortune of falling into Earl Asplund's clutches... or so the prince assumed.

Lelouch waved away the apology. "Is that the problem? You haven't been able to find a test pilot." While his previous crude hacking of the Lancelot provided him with some motor control during the incident, he was unable to fully unleash its potential. He was simply incompatible with the machine, for lack of a better term.

"Yes. We've done all we could without a pilot. We received a special recruitment dispensation from the Viceroy, but every candidate from the local military was rejected," Cecile admitted.

Lelouch nodded in understanding. Piloting a KMF was a physically and mentally demanding task and the machine automatically screened out unsuitable candidates. With an advanced, unoptimized prototype like the Lancelot, probably very few people could truly operate it. The fact that local units stationed in Area 11 weren't exactly front line material probably didn't help.

"Have you considered recruiting someone from the Area 11 auxiliary forces?"

Cecile blinked.

"The auxiliary forces?"

"Hmm, that is a very interesting idea, Your Highness."

"But there are non-Britannians in them," Cecile blurted out.

"And half-Britannians," Lloyd added helpfully.

"What does it matter if they pledged their loyalty to Britannia?" Lelouch asked.

Cecile looked at him owlishly, clearly not expecting an imperial prince to say such things. Lloyd, however, smiled broadly, clearly fascinated by the whole exchange.

"Yes, yes. That's an excellent idea, Your Highness. We'll get on it right away, although we'd be very grateful if you could lend us your assistance," Lloyd agreed. "The bureaucrats tend to move a little quicker when a member of the royal family is around."

XXXXXXXXXX

Cheers erupted from the spectators as the severely battered Glasgow collapsed in a heap. Seconds later, the exhausted pilot slipped out of the cockpit coughing and wheezing like an old man. The opposing machine, still looking pristine, touched down and lowered its pilot to the ground.

"Haha, I'll take care of this in five minutes, right?" one of the observers jested, while lending a hand to the defeated pilot. "I told you she's the real deal. Who do you think you are, a Knight of the Round? Heck, I'm not convinced one of those could even take her down."

The other pilot, a burly, masculine or rather emasculated now man in his thirties mumbled something derisive, which only seemed to amuse his associates more. As the minutia of this seeming upset was being discussed, the victor took the opportunity to escape. She did so loathe these most fight pep talks.

Alas, she didn't make it very far.

"Kallen, congratulations on your victory. Great fight!"

The redheaded girl turned and gave the speaker a baleful look for attracting attention to her.

"Thank you, Suzaku," Kallen grunted. _Yes, thank you, you dimwit._

"I'm jealous. I wish I had the opportunity to spar against such a renowned pilot," gushed the boy, as if it was some great honor.

Kallen clenched her teeth. Regardless of the situation, that boy never failed to infuriate her. Everything about him, his past, his beliefs, his actions all frustrated her to no end. He was everything that was wrong with Area 11, no occupied Japan; he was everything that she was not. And yet, at the same time, he was the only friend she had in this den of serpents.

"I'm sure you'd have done well too. You did beat me."

That was another annoying thing about him. Suzaku Kururugi was a phenomenon pilot and on par with herself. He could be a huge asset to the resistance if it weren't for the fact that he was brainwashed by the Britannians. Why else would he earnestly be working for them as some nameless lackey?

"Private Kururugi, what are you doing?" Hollered an officer.

"Sir, yes, sir," Suzaku affirmed before running away.

_Just like an obedient dog_, Kallen thought bitterly.

"Cadet Kallen, congratulations on your fine performance. You're a credit to your family. I want to let you know that there's an open invitation to the Armored Corps for you. Britannia is always looking for fine pilots of good background."

Fine pilots of good background? How do these people say that with a straight face? Kallen resisted the urge to vomit. Infiltrating Britannia's military ranks was one thing, but to serve that vile institution against her own people was quite another.

"Thank you, sir, I'll think about it."

"Excellent. Please come with me. Some very important people would like to meet you."

Try as she could, Kallen could not extricate herself and found herself forcibly marched to meet these important people of her CO. Sometimes she wished she hadn't adjusted so well to her role as a mole and could knife someone in the back as was her want. Fortunately or unfortunately, she has learned to reign in such impulses.

"Your Highness, Your Lordship, please allow me to introduce Lieutenant Kallen Stadtfeld of the Area 11 Auxiliary Corps."

Kallen bowed just low enough to not solicit offense, but no more.

"A pleasure, lieutenant," Lelouch greeted. He paused to take a good look at the redhead. "I was very impressed. I haven't seen many who could pilot an original model Glasgow so proficiently."

While being the mainstay of the Britannian KMF corps for many years, the Glasgow was an unwieldy creature by modern standards. Nunnally had once compared the original Glasgow to its successor, the Gloucester, as being the Model T to the Ferrari.

Lelouch nodded to the bespectacled nobleman beside him.

"Ok, well, this is a surprise." Lloyd leaned forward, inspecting the girl as a scientist would watch a specimen under a microscope. "I guess it doesn't matter though, equipment will be equipment," he declared cheerfully at the end.

"Young miss, I'm Earl Lloyd Asplund, head researcher of Project Camelot and I've a proposal for you."

XXXXXXXXXX

"You did WHAT?"

"I turned down the offer," Kallen answered hesitantly. She was regretting telling Suzaku what happened. After all, how could she forget that he was such a naive lapdog of his very oppressors. Instead of sharing her hidden satisfaction at rebuffing a prince and an "esteemed" nobleman, the boy was instead appalled by her behavior.

The redhead chose to ignore her friend as she ate her food in ill-tempered silence.

"Your captain won't be happy."

"My captain is spineless and will do nothing."

"Not to you, but he might to me. He might blame me for corrupting you or something," Suzaku suggested.

That gave Kallen pause. It was exactly the sort of underhanded tactic that low life would do, but so be it. Maybe the injustices of it all would make him have a change of heart one of these days, though she wouldn't count on it. He was an awfully stubborn person. The girl tore viciously into the flesh of her meal.

"Lieutenant Stadtfeld."

Both Kallen and Suzaku turned to the dark-haired boy prince.

"Your Highness."

"At ease. I'm not here to make a scene. I think Earl Asplund did enough for the both of us. In fact, I wanted to apologize for his behavior. I hope that wasn't the reason why you turned down his offer."

"No, of course not. Not at all, Your Highness," answered Kallen dryly. "Thank you, but my decision remains the same. I decline your offer."

"I see." Lelouch nodded in understanding while carefully assessing the redhead. Kallen was certainly a very beautiful girl, a blooming flower in the spring of youth. With her aristocratic background, there was no need for her to go into military service to guarantee her future. Yet, at the same time, there was something about her that seemed...

"I can understand. The military isn't as glamorous as some make it out to be and I imagine you know all about that."

Kallen nodded tightly as unbidden images of Britannian soldiers beating old men and women in the ghettos filtered across her mind.

"But isn't serving your country well a honorable and just duty?"

Both Kallen and Lelouch turned to the until now ignored Suzaku. The imperial prince gave the young man roughly his age a hard look, instantly recognizing his non-Britannian ancestry.

"Perhaps," Lelouch allowed. But what a strange thing for a number to say while wearing the uniform of his conqueror.

"Private Kururugi Suzaku is an Honorary Britannian," Kallen quickly injected, causing her friend noticeable agitation. Suzaku cast her a momentary dark look that made Kallen feel unease. She had reflexively offered the explanation in his defense as any decent friend would do. But as she thought about it, she realized this might work out in her favor. If her friend could see what kind of pompous gasbags Britannian royalties were, how conceited and cruel their elites were, maybe he would abandon his foolish ideas of changing the system from within.

Kallen looked at the wheelchair bound prince. Lelouch didn't fit the image she had of the ferocious conqueror, who subjugated her homeland, but surely the spoiled child-prince could only be worse than his peers: Not only inept and corrupt, but also desperate to compensate for his disability.

"Kururugi? You wouldn't be related to the late Prime Minister, would you?"

Suzaku gave a tight nod, expecting the very worst. What he received was something very different. Lelouch rolled forward and extended his hand.

"It's quite an honor. Your father had a fearsome reputation. His death was a great boon for us and a tremendous loss to your people I'm sure."

"Ahm, yeah, I mean, Yes, Your Highness! Thank you!" Suzaku answered with relief as he accepted the offered hand.

"At ease, Private." Lelouch smiled gently, one that put the other boy greatly at ease. It was at this point that Kallen, watching with growing confusion and disbelief, began wondering if she had misjudged.

"You're a pilot?" The prince queried at last as the trio walked side by side.

"Ah, I've piloted before for testing purposes, but I'm not a pilot per se like the lieutenant," Suzaku explained. "Although I've bested her in sparring," he added cheekily, feeling comfortable to share such a secret.

"You beat me once and the CO refused to arrange for a rematch," Kallen shot back. The hot tempered girl might not have understood the implication of her brash statement, but Lelouch did.

"Private, I'd like you to be a test candidate for Project Camelot."

Both Kallen and Suzaku stopped in their tracks.

"What! But Your Highness, my background–"

"Is irrelevant and I doubt Earl Asplund would care. I might not be a Knightmare Frame pilot, but I know a talent pilot when I see one." Which was true enough considering who Lelouch's mother and sister were.

"I'd really like to see what you can do, Suzaku."

"Yes, Your Highness," Suzaku answered. Having won the affirmation of a Britannian prince and was thus one step closer to his goal, the determined young man was not about to back off. "I will do my best."

When Prince Lelouch finally departed with his entourage, he left behind an ecstatic Suzaku and gave Kallen a chance to take stock of how badly she fucked that up. All she could think about was how Ohgi and the others were not going to be happy.

XXXXXXXXXX

**AN:** Jeremiah is here. Everybody loves Orange-kun, right? Just need to find some way of introducing Sayoko and I can get a Storm of Loyalty™ going! Yeah!

I reread this and thought I might have given Kallen the short end of the stick. To be honest, I feel lukewarm about her character, either because she's too popular to elicit my creative interest or because I'm more of a C.C. fan. I pledge to try and have her keep her canon role as the Black Queen. Fair warning, though, I personally love queen sacrifices in my chess games!


End file.
